Frozen: The Queen and The Wolfhound
by IchimonjiEdge
Summary: It has been a few years since the dramatic events when the fabled snow queen Elsa ascended the throne, but a neighbouring state is growing hungry for vengeance, and it is becoming more difficult to keep the peace. With the situation becoming critical, her sister Anna rushes homeward bound with news of its most wanted, a fugitive whose presence could tip the situation either way...
1. The wolf in the garden

**Chapter 1**

"Don't look back!"

Princess Anna still heard the guard's last words in her head as she rode like the wind through the forest pass. She was returning from a state visit to The Republic of Hammerfall when her caravan was ambushed not long after crossing the border. During the chaos, one of the guards handed over his horse and told her to get back as soon as possible. She had no idea how long it had been since that moment, nor how close she was to her homeland of Arendelle. All she knew was that her windswept face had turned dry and night had fallen. It was getting harder to see the road and at this point, she could only hope.

Hope. One could describe Anna as its unending fountain in times like these. Though her body was small and delicate, it stood in stark contrast to her flaming red hair, large green eyes and a feisty, bull-headed attitude that more often than not, got her into trouble. These, along with her positive outlook and deep-rooted love for her sister Elsa saved the world from eternal winter. In light of those events, she was recognised as a national symbol of Arandelle, recieving formal training in diplomacy and then appointed as a royal envoy of interstate affairs.

She could not bear to think of the consequences if anything happened to her now.

Anna's eyes lit up as she saw the faint lights of home when she felt a brief drop on one side. Before she realised the horse was about to give out she was thrown clear of it, hit the ground and rolled several times into a ditch. It was a few minutes before she came to her senses and attempted to stand up. She was onto her arms when something shone, though subtly, ahead. Looking hard into the darkness she could see... a small circle? No. Two small circles close together, slowly but surely getting bigger. It was unusual for someone like Anna to experience fear, but she realised what she was looking at - and what was looking at her. The two circles became four. Four became six. Then six became what looked like legion.

And she was alone.

A pack of wolves appeared before her. She wanted to escape, but her body was rendered frigid, eyes wide open, entranced by the image of drooling maws, bared fangs, hungry snarls and stares of bloodlust. Though she was still, she felt her heart pounding and her mind becoming unhinged. Then a thought blazed into her; No! If I'm going to die, then I'll die fighting fear! I'll never give in to it!

She was about to run when she was stopped again. In the blink of an eye someone grabbed her chin, jerking her head back, followed by something cold and sharp pressing into her neck. A menacing voice then whispered

"Not a word. Not a muscle."

Her body froze again. Now she was feeling fear from two directions: The pack in front, hungering for her blood, and the stranger to the side, with his blade at her throat. The thought of being eaten alive was bad enough, but now her brain was thrashing itself to keep out what she really did not want to know: What he would do to her. She was sweating as the two fears merged together, their meanings dissolving into something worse: Terror. Her heart ready to burst, her mind at the gates of madness, she mustered one more thought before she would scream; Is this what Elsa felt before she-

"Hold your nerve!" the stranger said abruptly, "If you panic they will attack!"

Anna was confused. It was a different tone. Assertive but without malice. This isn't the voice of a bandit, she thought; is he protecting me?

With this possibilty she managed to wrench her eyes from the pack. Out of one corner she could see the stranger's face. He had the same murderous intent - only his were aimed at the wolves. This revelation was like a hammer that, from nowhere, smashed half of the terror into oblivion. She thought to herself, yes! I can get through this! Now to find something... Anything! Come on Anna, think!

She shut her eyes in an attempt to find whatever she could to remain sane. She began to feel the stranger's body, then noticed something she had not done before - her breath was short and rapid, his deep and steady. Now with something to focus on, she was getting to match his breathing. It was difficult at first - the pack was still staring into her mind, but through sheer concentration she was breathing slower, then deeper, then both. In time, she was in rhythm with the stranger. She also felt her heart beating calmer, her mind becoming at ease before finally, the fear dissipating from her body and into the shadows along with the wolves.

Anna was stunned when she opened her eyes - the wolves _had_ disappeared.

Her calmness did not last long. She grabbed the stranger's arm and poured her gratitude on him in a barrage of joy.

"Oh thank you thank you thank you mister... Stranger! Yes! Thank you mister stranger for saving me! I know, it's not like me to be scared being me and all and... Oh, I'm sorry! I don't think we've met before! But seriously I am SO grateful right now I could kiss you! Did I say thank... Mister?"

She noticed he had maintained a stern, stony face throughout her outburst. She tried to study him, but since it was dark she could only deduce that he had black hair and that he wasn't much taller than she was. She regained her composure and asked

"Sir, what's wrong?"

He replied bluntly

"What is a woman like you doing out here, alone at night?"

Though Anna, older and (questionably) wiser was able to keep her cool in formal atmospheres, she would still be prone to impulsively speak her mind without the watchful gaze of high society. She was offended by the man's response.

"Well, excuse me mister! I did not choose to travel alone, thank you very much! My caravan was attacked by bandits and I need to get back to Arendelle immediately!"

She could now see the stranger's face better. It was slim and taut, with a tight-lipped mouth. But it was the eyes that caught her attention - dark grey and hardened, or rather, sharpened to the point of piercing souls. Much like the wolves, looking into them made her uneasy and yet fascinated by their intensity. These are the eyes of a man held in some internal conflict. She could see he was contemplating his own situation before he replied.

"Madame, forgive me if I appear tactless, but it is dangerous out here - the wolves could return anytime. If you are heading to Arendelle, I can assist you most of the way, but I must be elsewhere afterwards."

"I graciously accept your help. Shall we?"

"Can you let go of my arm first?"

"Only if you tell me your name!"

"What?"

"Sir, you saved my life! I want to at least know your name! If it helps, my name is Anna."

He grunted in annoyance, but he knew it was rude if he did not return the favour, especially from a lady.

"Very well, my name is Schmidt."

"Thank you, Mister... _Schmidt?_ "

Suddenly she felt uncomfortable. One important item she was to bring back was to warn Arendelle of a criminal, wanted by Hammerfall in connection to an incident called the Red Morning - he was said to have that name. Schmidt quickly placed his hands on hers, eyes more open. Even his plea had the same focus.

"Madame, I know what you are thinking, but believe me when I say I was not behind this "Red Morning". My father... died that day and he was the only person who mattered to me. When you return home My Lady, I beg of you, do not mention myself being with you."

Anna learned not to trust those who tried to gain her favour so soon. But with the predicament she was in, she answered, coldy,

"Schmidt, had you said that any other time I would've punched your face. But you did save me, so just this once I will honour your request."

They spoke only once during the rest of the journey when she asked

"By the way, where's your knife?"

"What knife?"

"The one you held me up with?"

"That was a twig."

* * *

The morning sun's light had not yet reached the frost that lay over the royal garden. It glowed with an orange-pink hue, like a salmon embarking on its grand voyage, while its touch welcomed those escaping the cold shadows still holding coverage over most of the grounds. In the centre of it all, a woman stood in silent solitude.

To say this woman was extraordinary is an understatement. She was Elsa, Queen of Arendelle. To all the artists of the world, she was the living embodiment of perfection. Her hair was of white gold as it swayed carefree in the breeze. Her face, flawless from all angles complimenting her keen blue eyes. The thick gown she was wearing hid a body so elegant one could say it was sculpted by the divine itself. All of it was carried with such sincerity it seemed to emit an aura compelling anyone within it to feel as empowered as she must be.

But what made her truly stand out was something that instlled both awe and dread - she had the power to summon snow and ice. She had known it all her life, only she was not prepared for just how powerful it became as she grew up. As a child, she nearly killed her sister Anna with it. Fearing for the safety of all, her parents had her locked in her room until she came of age. They thought she would learn to control it, but the potency that grew each day only held her in more fear. She succumbed to that fear on the day of her coronation, isolating herself from the world and, without realising, plunging it into winter. It was only through the efforts of Anna, almost at the cost of her life, that she would return to rule Arendelle and bring the world to normality.

Fours years have passed since. She had taken her duties as queen with the utmost of importance; ensuring peace was maintained across the royal states. She was also aware there was as much enmity to her as there was admiration. All of this, together with the situation in Hammerfall, weighed heavily on her mind, and so when she could, she would come to the garden at dawn and contemplate the sunrise - the same sun she admired when she ran away those years ago.

She thought, just a few more minutes. How liberating it was to be free from fear, from the danger to myself and others. A few more minutes to feel that way again. Then like the sun, I will be ready to face the day...

"Good morning!"

The cheerful greeting irritated Elsa. Who could possibly be interrupting her this early? It was not a voice she recognised. She turned to see a man, hanging his coat on a bust of her late father. His black shirt and trousers, the same colour as his hair, were clearly too big for his frame. His boots and mauve cravate fit better, but only made him look smaller as he rolled up his sleeves.

"I do apologize if I have intervened at an inappropriate time, Your Highness. But I am afraid a commoner such as myself could never reach you through normal means, please understand!"

She thought it odd that this "commoner" had the posture and speech pattern more fitting for a noble. It would have been amusing were it not at a moment such as now.

"When I was growing up, I had heard tales of a "Snow Queen" with peerless beauty and a mind to match! That would have been satisfyng enough, but to hear that you are also blessed with ice magic, this I had to see! If you could be so kind Madame, may you allow me to witness your pow-"

Elsa smirked as she instantly encased the stranger in ice. She would inform the guards to have him ejected afterwards. As she walked away, she thought, he didn't expect that!

She did not expect to hear

"You could at least let me introduce myself!"

She was surprised to see the man brushing off the ice as if it were mere dust. Had she become ill? He bowed before continuing.

"My name is Schmidt. As it implies, I was to become a smithy like my father before me. But due to events four years ago I was drafted into the military."

This sentence made her realise the stranger is a Hammerfall soldier. What was he doing out here in Arendelle?

"As you can see, I do not meet the required minimum height to be a soldier, and thus was constantly bullied back at the academy. However, what I lacked in that I made up for with sheer determination and hard work. A painting of you there was the inspiration I needed!"

Elsa was getting fed up of his speech when she finally spoke.

"What do you want?"

He smiled, knowing she was taking notice and replied

"To kiss you, My Lady!"

"Really? You entered royal grounds without permission, dishonoured my father's memory and prattle on about yourself while I'm not properly dressed, and then have the _bare faced cheek_ to kiss me!?"

"But Madame, I told you-"

Elsa was in no mood to listen as she launched an icicle from her hands. Schmidt smiled again as he casually dodged it. She shot again, only for him to deflect that with a mere wave from his arm. No matter how hard she tried, he was either too quick for her to land a shot, or the few times she did, it was as effective as snowballs thrown by a toddler. She tried everything in her power, ice floor, ice wall, hailstones, but they were not slowing Schmidt in any way. She did not know he was runnng circles around her until she started feeling dizzy. In panic, she surrounded herself in a snow chamber, trying to buy time to regain her composure. She was about to fall when Schmidt charged into the chamber and grabbed her arms.

Elsa was trying her hardest to escape his clutches. She knew she did not have the strength to wrestle out of it, so she concentrated as much as she could to freeze him - or herself if she had to. She tried not to think it, but it dawned on her even this was ineffectual - she could feel only water pouring from her body. I don't feel ill yet nothing works! she thought. As her balaced restored, she looked straight at him.

She wanted to turn away, but it was too late. She could only gaze at his handsome face, his thick black mane and those intense grey eyes, now softening as he smiled at her. It was a warm, welcoming look, so much that she began to feel it throughout her body, now helpless and quivering but... without resistance? The only action she had left was to simply drop. Only his hands kept her standing, not in fear, but... What was this sensation she was experiencing? As water continued to flow from her reddened skin, she thought: I am Elsa, Queen of Arendelle. Though I have dedicated my life to ensuring peace and prosperity of the land I have inherited, should there be a situation so dire, I have the power to destroy the world. Yet now my power has been rendered impotent! Here I am, reduced to jelly and at the mercy of this man. I feel so hot, so exposed but... I like it. I want it! No, why am I even thinking this!? _It's too much!_

She jerked her head to the side. Never before had she felt so ashamed of herself, of allowing her soul to be revealed to this stranger. It would have been less shameful if she revealed her body.

"It has been a pleasure," said Schmidt gratefully as he kissed her hand, "Your Majesty!"

Elsa was left standing as he dashed to his exit. It was as if she was a pile of toys precariously balanced by a playful yet focused child, to be left as his masterpiece - If she moved an inch, she would surely collapse. Somewhere in her mind, she could hear her name being called throughout. As she struggled to comprehend this strange turn of events, the name was growing louder, like someone was trying to wake her up. She was unsure if she wanted to.

 _"ELSA!"_

She was bewildered to see Anna standing next to her in complete shock.

"What the hell happened!?"

She had to look around to understand what she said - the garden had become a bombsite dripping in slush. Still speechless, she shrugged. Anna then asked

"Are you okay?"

As reality slowly returned to her consciousness, she was able to collect enough thought to reply in words.

"Uh... yeah. Why?"

"You're all wet!"

She wondered why that was the last thing she noticed, nearly taking her back to that abnormal state of submissive rapture. In response, she smiled in confusion and said

"Oh!"


	2. Sister's secret

**Chapter 2**

"You still haven't answered my question."

Anna sat in the master bedroom waiting for her sister to get dressed behind a screen. She was still concerned about what happened in the garden earlier, but every time she asked Elsa would evade it with some other matter occuring in that moment. They were preparing for a meeting with representatives from neighbouring Hammerfall over its current situation. Anna was worried if she was fit to attend.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Am I okay?" Elsa answered as she stepped out of the screen. She was wearing a cream coloured dress, the kind Anna had seen at the state visit. It was much simpler than her own traditional outfit - no frills, no patterns, fastened by buttons instead of lace. Yet it did not diminish her appearance as a queen - on the contrary. This was a dress made with integrity in mind, hugging her body in silk. One could imagine it was tailored by spiders in thrall of her beauty. She strolled to a stool, where a maid stood waiting to fashion her hair.

"I have never felt better!"

The maid was swift, tying her locks into a single braid and carefully placing it around the top of her head. Anna was doing her best to coneal her ire, which was difficult as Elsa smirked in that small, conceited way she knew she could not ignore. When the crown was fitted, the maid left the room. The butler stood at the door, stating that the representatives had arrived and are awaiting her presence. Elsa gestured she would be there in five minutes. As soon as he left, she suddenly leant to Anna, her face lit up with wide eyes and an even wider smile. Anna was taken aback at this change of expression. Elsa then raised her little finger.

"Sister secret?"

Anna was disappointed. They were fully grown women now. They did not have time to play little girls' games, moreso from Elsa, the more mature of the two. But then she noticed something unusual; she had never seen her this excited in a long time. This was not the fabled "Snow Queen" or the dreaded "Ice Witch"; it was Princess Elsa, the childhood friend who she always loved to play with. It brought her back to that innocent age, before having to learn stupid grown-up things like how to eat at a table, or the proper mannerisms of greeting a gentleman. Before she knew it, she could feel her own kid self pulling her heart, saying "Come on Anna, you know you want to find out! You'll know it'll be really good!". Stop it! she thought, this is no time for whimsical endeavours!

Elsa saw this emotional tug of war on her sister's face, giving her immense pleasure - she almost felt guilty about it. In desperation, Anna turned to her for help, even when she knew she shouldn't, but the bond between them was too strong; their parents died while they were still children, and she had no one else to look up to. This was Elsa's moment to strike. She moved closer to her and whispered

"Let it go."

The inner child had won. Anna's faced beamed with joy as they hooked their little fingers.

"Okay, sister secret!"

"A stranger came into the garden!"

"A stranger?"

"Well, an admirer!"

Anna was really curious. There had been many people who claimed to admire Elsa, but never one so audacious as to meet her during one of her private moments.

"I guess this admirer must be pretty special! What did he do?"

"To be honest, I thought he was like all the others, spouting about himself and how I was his inspiration. I've had that told to me so many times I just don't enjoy it anymore. So I freezed him."

"Okay..." said Anna, puzzled, "And that was all it took?"

"That's the thing: It didn't work! I got so angry, I did everything I could to try and stop him!"

"And somehow he stopped you?"

Elsa let off a deep sigh, staring into a daydream. "When he held me, you should've seen him Anna, the way he smiles at you. It was so open and true. If it'd been any other man I would've iced him by accident, but him... I've never felt so warm in my life! In fact, I could only summon water!"

That at least explains the garden, thought Anna before she asked

"But what did he look like?"

"Well, he wasn't the tallest guy, and he wore baggy clothes, but he was cute, with jet black hair and dark grey eyes. Oh Schmidt! Why did you have to- what's wrong?"

A look of anxiety washed over Anna's face. She remembered him saying he needed to be elsewhere after he assisted her. If this was the same person...

"Elsa, I was going to mention this at the meeting, but this Schmidt is Hammerfall's most wanted! Do you know what could happen to Arendelle if they knew he was here?"

She had a point. The relationship between the two states had grown tense lately. Elsa did not have time to ponder over it though; the meeting was about to begin.

"Don't worry," she assured Anna, putting on her gloves - she promised the visitors not to use her magic and wearing them prevented it, "I'll keep quiet about what occured earlier. Come on, let's go."

* * *

The Republic of Hammerfall was a city state founded twenty-six years ago not by an individual who had the power to rule, but by the likes of farmers, philosophers and craftsmen, people of ability who believed mankind could become masters of their own destiny through prosperity and progress, but was stagnated by the aristocracy's outdated ways. Before its creation, these citizens openly opposed the royal states, and thus were viewed either as peasants bemoaning their low status or anarchists bent on the destruction of civilisation. Either way, the regales were confident that without a vast amount of wealth, the upstarts would pose no threat. "Let them have their little utopia," they snided, "We will see how long they last."

But within a few decades, Hammerfall had grown financially strong thanks to the many inventions it created, free from the "design constraints" imposed by the royal states. These were made with only purpose in mind, giving them a simple, cheap look eschewed by the nobility. The lower and middle classes, more concerned with their budgets, desired such products, and thus were the main source of the nation's income. The imperials, startled at its rising position in the world, enforced a trade embargo. In protest, the people depending on its goods flocked to the "Land of Innovation", further increasing its standing.

It would have been the greatest state were it not for an incident four years ago.

When Elsa withdrew from the world during the height of summer, the resulting freeze destroyed the vast crops Hammerfall had nurtured to feed its growing population. Facing famine, its people demanded she should be punished for this selfish act of stupidity. She accepted full responsiblity, sending aid in compensation. However, she was not so naive as they had hoped she would be, for in return she demanded they help Arendelle progress forward with some of their innovations and engineers. They agreed, grudgingly, as no other nation was willing to help.

It also was decreed at this time that all abled-bodied men were to be conscripted into military service, claiming it was a critical time to deter any would-be invaders from attacking. In those four years, its army had grown substancially. It was more worrying that a small, but vocal, section were claiming the agreement between the two nations was a sham, designed to keep Hammerfall on a leash; they wanted revenge. Elsa was promised that these "insubordinates" were being kept in check, and their threats of invasion were hollow.

The people of Arendelle thought otherwise. Recently Hammerfall's military was flaunting its strength; trade caravans had been raided and skirmishes broke out along its borders. There was speculation that the government was becoming powerless over the insurgent movement, and that it was only a matter of time before they would launch a full-scale attack.

The prevention of this outcome was the subject of the day's meeting. Elsa sat on the throne, presiding over a long table. On one side was her advisers and Anna. On the other, representatives from each of Hammerfall's ministries that made up its government, and draped above them was their emblem: Thought, in the form of a quill, becomes action, symbolised by a billhook, both housed within a cogwheel, the result and continued cycle of the republic's philosophy summarised in the mantra: _Fatum inventa noster._

The tension in the atmosphere was palbable as she stood and adressed the assembly.

"I will begin by thanking you all for coming here today. We are facing a very dangerous situation that threatens both of our lands. It need not be said, but if war were to break out among us, the other nations will seize this oppurtunity to conquer or destoy either. As was done so since my ascension, I, _Elsa Regina Arendellia_ and my people will do what we can to strengthen our ties with the Republic of Hammerfall, and as I have seen for myself, the citizens of Hammerfall have delivered their promises of helping us, for which I am most grateful. Now, we need each other more than ever. We must push ourselves harder, possibly to breaking point, but if we focus, we will overcome this ordeal, and we will be the envy of the world!"

The hall filled with applause. Anna could only look on in wonder at her sister's prowess as a stateswoman.

The applause subsided, save a slow and mocking clap from the Hammerfall side. It was the Grand General of the Martial Ministry. A giant of a man, he had the appearance of a shaved gorilla, though no one dared say that to his face, and was made bigger by his small eyes, oversized epaulettes and a cumbersome collection of medals. "As ever, your speeches impress me," he said, "You should try telling that to the insubordinates."

"Isn't that your job, General?" an adviser retorted.

The General looked into straight into him, his thousand yard stare silenced the adviser on the spot, making him shrink into his chair. "In all earnesty Madame," he said to Elsa, "It pains me to punish them, for I have trained some of these boys myself."

"Boys?"

"From sixteen years of age. They can still be... impressionable."

"So they are being persuaded by some outside influence?"

"No," answered the Minister of Well-being, a priest whose immaculate robes concealed a small, frail body that contradicted his title, "It is simply a case of new generation, new ideas."

Another of Elsa's advisers stood up to question him. "And you didn't think to teach them these new ideas could conflict with Hammerfall's founding principles?"

"It is difficult to adhere to them when they have starved for the past four years. Even the food your nation has provided is not enough."

The adviser raised an eyebrow and asked "Perhaps you shouldn't have recruited so many. Have you even bothered tending your own fields?"

"You take that back!" cried a voice from the furthest end of the table. It was Mr. Holstein, representing the Ministry of Produce. A short, stout figure with a weather-beaten face and callused hands, he was sent to Arendelle to grow surplus crops for Hammerfall. "The land back home is notoriously difficult to culture! It'll take many years before we can feed ourselves again!"

"It might have helped had you returned three years ago." said the Minister of Commerce, a former craftsman whose ruthless efficiency with money and men had him welcomed into the government. Without the physical effort of his previous work however, his body had grown so fat its girth spilled over the sides of his chair. "So why the delay?" he asked.

Mr. Holstein stood silent. Anna saw him struggling for an answer. She knew him personally, a good man who was proud of his work, even tending the fields himself when others could not turn up. I have to help him! she thought. She stood up and said

"With due fairness, Minister, he did so because he believes it's the right thing. Thanks to his efforts, those three years have seen bumper harvests the like this nation hasn't seen before! Do you really think it's wise to-"

"It's alright, Your Highness," said Mr. Holstein, "My tenure is long overdue. I will return after-"

"Did you just call her _Your Highness!?"_ bellowed the General.

To distance themselves from archaic class-based rule, the founding fathers of Hammerfall declared uttering aristocratic titles offensive, akin to swear words. He clenched his fists and slowly walked to Mr. Holstein, his medals clanging as they swung around like the trinkets of a savage headhunter. Mr. Holstein's face was written in terror while the assembly watched on, horrified at what was to happen but too fearful to intervene.

 _"GENERAL!"_

He was stopped by Elsa's icy glare, ready to take off her glove.

"Two things. One: Under Hammerfall law, uttering such words results in a fine, not corporal punishment. Two: You are not in Hammerfall. Now get back to your seat before _I_ get angry."

It looked as if he was about to explode, but knowing he was no match for her magic, he returned to his seat. "Is there any way of at least appeasing the insubordinates?" she asked.

"There is one way." answered the Minister of Law, a magistrate whose non-descript face lacked emotion, only this was forced - it was less the look of a judge and more of a poker player. Anna realised what he was talking about; she almost forgot the item she brought back from the state visit.

"Allow me, Your Honour," she said, "The Republic of Hammerfall has issued a warrant for the apprehension of a soldier named Schmidt, thought to be responsible for the Red Morning incident. As you all know by now, a few weeks ago the city's industrial estate was burned to the ground around dawn. Property damage is at a value unheard of and several people have died - including the suspect's father."

"Correct," said the Minister, "the insubordinates have stated they will stand down if he is brought to face justice."

The Commander of Arendelle's forces stood and asked

"General, since he is a soldier, could you tell us more about this Schmidt?"

"From what I heard, the officers spoke of him highly. Followed every order to the letter, an expert with a sword, rifle, pretty much everything is a deadly weapon in his hands. A model soldier in every sense. Actually, that last part was wrong - he was said to be a loner."

"Did you know him personally?"

"He did see me once. Something about a discrepancy with supplies. He burst into my office without warning. I was ready to punch his lights out, but when he wants your attention, he will look straight into your eyes like..."

The hint of worry on his face was a sight to behold. It was unlikely they would witness something like that again. Anna was taken in by this, not realising she would finish his sentence.

"Like a wolf?"

"Yes. Exactly like that, Madame! You must have read my mind!"

Elsa was perplexed. She knew Anna enough that the spontaniety of her answer would not come out without reason. As she listened, a pinch of suspicion was felt within her. The Commander continued.

"Does he possess any specialist skills?"

"The last I heard of him was that he was transferred to a scout unit, so chances are he is currently hiding in your vast forests. I propose that you allow my troops to conduct the search and-"

"Why?" interrupted one of the advisers, "So you can catch us off guard with your invasion?"

"How dare you make such a claim!" he snapped back. "At least my men are competent! Is there anything Arendelle makes that is better than ours?"

"At least our nation isn't run by a walking corpse, a gluttonous fat cat, a dubious looking lawman and an obnoxious hulking sack of..."

At that moment, the atmosphere turned hostile, the air turning blue as both sides threw curses at each other. Elsa tried to restore order, but to no avail. As the salvoes of taunts and threats continued, she was struggling to control her fustration. Anna saw this and, knowing what was about to happen, stepped behind her chair. Elsa could take it no more. She pulled off her glove and slammed her hand on the table.

The hall fell silent as it was swept in ice, seizing everyone save Anna.

"You broke your promise!" yelled the General. Anna ducked; she could not hide her amusement at the image of him posing as a teapot. Elsa scorned the assembly.

"Gentlemen, we are discussing the prevention of war! How can this be possible if you can't restrain yourselves? If you want to sling mud, there's a pigsty just down the road- no offence, Mr. Holstein. This is my proposal: My men will search Arendelle for the suspect and will bring him to you. In return, ensure your army never sets foot on my land. Do we have an agreement?"

"Fine," answered the General, still fuming, "but only if you free us!"

Elsa lifted her hand. The ice broke off, releasing the assembly.

After the meeting, Elsa still sat at the throne, her head buried in her arms, regretting what she had done. Anna wondered how she could be driven to such drastic action.

"Madame?"

Mr. Holstein stood by with a look not of sorrow, as they expected, but pride. "I just wanted to say, when I arrived in Arendelle I held only contempt for the queen. I'm sure you understand that a farmer like me would've been reluctant to help after what she did. But over the months, I'd learned to appreciate what she has to go through, being burdened with such power. It also helped that your fields are immensely fertile! If I could have it my way, I'd transport them back to Hammerfall!"

"I'm surprised they haven't devised a way yet."

"But I disgress. I want to tell you I knew Schmidt. Sometimes he helped me on my farm back home. And I can say without any doubt that he is a most noble and just fellow, as was his father."

Elsa raised her head, her interest piqued and asked

"So you don't think he was behind the Red Morning?"

When he noticed the guards telling him to leave, he simply nodded and said

"I daresay you should meet him for yourself. You'll be pleasantly surprised, _Your Majesty_."

With this last act of defiance against his own state, he was escorted out of the hall.

Anna noticed her sister leaning to one side, eyes softening as she drifted into another world. A realisation struck her; it gave a new purpose to her impetuous spirit. As she made her way outside, she thought to herself:

I have to find him.


	3. Child of Hammerfall

**Chapter 3**

Winter has been kind this year, thought Schmidt.

He was strolling towards the sunset, its harsh light diffused by a gentle haze dusting over the landscape. A pale golden bloom bringing warmth to his heart in spite of the chilly breeze. Now whenever he saw this, he would see Elsa, something he would cherish for the rest of his life. To his left, one of the great forests of Arendelle, the long shadows of its trees creeping onto the frozen lake on his right.

The open ice expanse, a blank canvas in which a child painted whatever was on his mind, a world where evil was righteously vanquished by virtues of hope, joy and understanding. The miracle of creation, as when he was a child, watched his father working at the forge, marveling at the glowing metal that he would transform into tools to help others prosper, rings for lovers to show their affection and, what Schmidt looked forward to most, the occasional sword for a distinguished officer.

How he longed to be there again! The days of running free in the fields and city streets, of seeing artists at work and scientists at play, of hearing the songs of workshop mechanicals or the schematics behind orchestral pieces. He felt more connected to these entities than his peers, who saw him as clever but oddly quiet, unapproachable even. When another child would muster the courage to ask him a question, he would answer in a most rudimentary manner, killing any hope for further conversation. The teachers joked he was a manifestation of Hammerfall's engineering spirit.

There was one matter he never understood - the bullies. Sometimes he would theorise why they behaved like they did towards him. It didn't matter what he was doing or what mood he was in - it was especially fustrating when they attacked him while he was happy; how can one despise joy? In the end, he could draw no logical conclusion, and thus stopped thinking about them. This was what the shadows of the forest represented: The darkness born of many evils, be it greed, sloth, hatred or unreason.

Then he recalled the "Big Freeze", the day the land was swept up in frost. It was not just the fields that were ruined, but also the precision-made machinery that seized up from the sudden drop in temperature. He remembered, if only for a brief period, the ensuing mayhem of citizens emptying shops in minutes, of brawls over who got the last of the goods and of cries for justice against the demon behind the disaster: That wretched ice maiden, the queen of Arendelle.

No! he thought. Hammerfall will pull through!

He saw it as a challenge issued from Heaven itself, for the city to prove it was the greatest on Earth. When the decree was announced that all abled-bodied men were to be conscripted, he signed up without hesitation.

He remembered the early days at the military academy of being taunted, of his below-average height, his earnest nature and the rumours that he was his father's biggest "mistake" - the one thing he could never get over during his studies. None of it mattered however, for on the day of examinations, his understanding in the art of war had him excel in both theory and practice, earning the admiration of officer and cadet alike.

There was an exception - Heinrich, one of the tormentors from his childhood. Of all the bullies, he had to be with possibly the most depraved one of them all. It sickened him to suffer his endless insults, of how people only favoured "that piece of Schmidt" because they liked his father. His pranks were worse, one example being how he snuck some dog dirt in Schmidt's boots before kit inspection - the smell persisted even after several washes. He did his best not to stoop to Heinrich's level, but when Schmidt recieved message that he would be inducted to another unit, seeing his torturer's disdain at staying where he was filled him with delight, for this other unit was the preserve of the elite - the _Jagdhunde_.

Developed over the fledgling years of Hammerfall, they were the foremost in innovative warfare. Whereas it was usually waged through the butchery of attrition, they were the surgeon's lancet, targeting the enemy's weakpoints - disrupting supplies, intercepting communication and eliminating key personnel, leaving it at the mercy of the main force. Each member a specialist in one aspect, with codenames befitting their talents such as _Bluthund_ : The master of reconnaissance, be it tracking high value targets or providing field information, his senses were so sharp it was as if he had each of them implanted from their animal equivalents. _Windhund_ : His speed and endurance made him ideal as a dispatch runner. _Stierhund_ : A mountain of muscle, he could hold his own in a tavern brawl or point defence. Each one, a formidable force multiplier on the battlefield. Together, unequalled under Heaven.

Like Schmidt, they too were seen as outcasts of society. For the first time in his life, among other misfits, he felt a sense of belonging. It made him strive to do even better, and his determination gained the respect of his fellow "hounds" - they looked up to him as the ideal man. When high command noticed this, he could not believe it when they bestowed unto him the title _Wolfhund_ : The leader of the pack.

He remembered that day, for he also saw the insubordinates rise in arms, again crying for justice, but in reality for vengeance. He thought nothing of them at first, but when they burned the painting of Elsa in public, he could not take it; he thought it utterly illogical when she had helped them recuperate the state's losses. If there was anyone who could explain them, it would be his father. He rushed back to him, for he understood deep down that she was no different to-

"Mr. Schmidt!"

The voice was familiar. He then saw the red-haired woman, riding a reindeer in glee. "You," he said, "Anna, was it?"

"You remembered!"

"It would be hard for anyone to forget one such as yourself."

The beast looked at him with intent as she dismounted. Schmidt leaned away - it made him feel uncomfortable. "Don't worry about Sven," she assured him, "He may look haggard but he's a gentle soul. He just hasn't seen you before!". As they resumed the walk. Schmidt asked

"Why did you want to see me?"

"I'd like to know more about you."

He could not comprehend why. Anyone else would have known enough to stay away. However, he knew he could not run away this time.

"Like what?"

"How did you know the wolves wouldn't attack?"

"They recognised me."

"Recognised you?"

"I fought them off before."

"By yourself!?"

"Yes."

She was astonished not at this unbelievable feat, but how he seemed to think nothing of it. No way to continue on that, she thought. She then asked

"How old are you?"

"Twenty."

"Really!?" she said in shock, "You look much older!"

His irritation began to show on his face. Realising she had offended him, she turned hers away in guilt. "Madame, I am not one for small talk. What is your true reason for being here?"

She could not understand how this reserved individual had won Elsa's heart. She took a second to regain her formal composure. "As you guessed last night, I was told that you were responsible for the Red Morning. But as a diplomat, I have to hear all sides of the story before I make judgement. Tell me yours."

He appreciated her neutral tone by nodding. There was almost a smile as he began his exposition.

"That dawn, I was running to the industrial district where my father lived. I had recieved a promotion and I could not wait to tell him. He raised me alone, and I imagined I would make him truly proud with my achievment. Something was wrong when I smelled smoke - nobody would be working the machines at this time. Before long, the streets were filled with people fleeing in panic, it was as if the Big Freeze happened again. I had to barge my way through to see if father was safe, I would have recognised him had he fled with the others. Tell me Madame, how does the sunset look now?"

She was perplexed. That question had no relation to the matter as far as she knew, but if it allowed her to know more, she replied

"It's beautiful. A warm amber light among a scarlet sky, although a little too many clouds. It's so intense, like watching a-"

The discovery of his reason for asking knocked her sideways: This was how the fire looked as it engulfed the district.

"The problem was that the buildings were built too close to each other, many of them hastily made with wood to accommodate the influx of migrants when the embargo was enforced; the flames spread far too fast for us to extinguish them. Through the heat and smoke, I finally reached father's place, but he was trapped. I tried everything to free him, but... it was in vain. He said "Son, my time has come. Just do what you want to do now, but remember what I have always told you: _Never let emotion overcome reason_." I heard the house straining under the pressure. Instinctively I ran outside, before realising what I just did and turned back, only to see..."

Anna glimpsed his face wince as he turned away. "It's okay," she said, "You can stop."

"Bear with me," his voice quivered, "I must finish."

A few minutes later he faced her again. He was still showing remnants of pain.

"And that was the last I saw of him."

How awful! she thought. She remembered the sorrow when she recieved news of her own parents' death, but to see your father perish before your eyes...

"Madame?"

"Sorry!" she replied, "I was thinking of my own... tragedy. So, what did you do after?"

"I ran."

She thought it strange that Schmidt, who appeared to value logic over everything else would do just that. "I know what you think," he said, "Why did I not stay and provide my account of the incident? I will tell you: I was, but as I made my return, I saw a few figures carrying rifles through the smoke. I thought they were my fellow soldiers - if I made my presence they would help me out. I was wrong."

"How come?"

"As I approached them, they aimed their weapons at me! Only through reflex did I manage to evade their shots. I dashed into them as they were reloading and attacked. It is all a blur now, though I do recall cutting one of their faces with a bayonet. Then I ran, and I will keep on running for as long as I can."

As he watched the remaining sun, now obscured by the trees, he felt a sense of closure. A feeling of refreshment coursed in his veins which he had to express, something he had not experienced for a long time.

"You know Madame, since that day I had been searching for something to ease the anguish, straining my mind to find an answer. I feel like a fool to not think that all I needed was somebody to listen. Thank you Anna."

Anna could not help but feel warm and bashful as he kissed her hand, and watched his dark grey eyes become gentle, along with his smile; now she knew how Elsa felt. "I think I know enough now." she said. "I hate to admit it, but I'll miss you!"

"In that case, take this."

He took something from his coat pocket and handed it to her - a toy toldier. "It may not be obvious to you, but this is a fine example of Hammerfall craftsmanship. I helped Mr. Holstein at his farm to earn the money for it. By the way, how is he?"

She looked to him in regret. "He had to return. A shame. He's a good man, kind of what I expect from your citizens."

He nodded in agreement. As they looked around, stars were beginning to appear in the darkened sky when something rustled from the bushes - a rabbit darted out. Anna grinned and looked at Schmidt.

He was not smiling. It was a return to that wolf-like stare as when they first met. He faced the forest and shouted

"Show yourself!"

The only response was his voice echoing in the wood. Anna was unsure of what to say. Have the wolves returned?

It was Sven that saw through the ruse. He sniffed the air, then made his way to a bush, prodding it repeatedly. A muffled voice was heard before he charged and knocked a man out of it. At that moment, several soldiers appeared from the darkness and leveled their firearms at the pair. The one who was rumbled got to his feet and announced

"Schmidt! By order from the Republic of Hammerfall, you are under arrest for the crimes of arson, desertion, treason and murder! Surrender now or we will open fire!"

Anna could not believe the voice she recognised. "Is that you Kristoff!?" she yelled, "Why are you here?"

"Because I know you enough that when things get interesting, you seek it without regard for your own safety. Besides, you took my Sven without permission!"

Schmidt was furious at Anna's lack of caution. "Do you ever consider the consequences of your actions?" he asked. If there was one thing that riled her up, it was being reminded of her nature as a flaw.

"Consequences!?" she snapped back, "I would've left you be if you hadn't met El-"

She noticed too late what she had just said. Schmidt aimed his lupine eyes at hers in a pychological hold. "Madame," he whispered, his anger barely concealed, "what have you done?"

Kristoff was worried, having never seen Anna like this, as if her spirit was draining from her body, leaving only dread behind. I've got to stop him, he thought, but Hammerfall wants him alive... Damn, I won't let him do this to her!

He fired a warning shot. The bullet shrieked across the space between Anna and Schmidt, making him flinch and breaking his grip-like stare. As the soldiers scorned Kristoff for his brash action, Anna felt her courage returning. Now she wanted to turn the tables and nothing would hold her back, walking up to Schmidt and giving him a piece of her mind. "You listen to me jackass! If there's one thing I won't give into, it's fear, and you think you can just scare me into staying quiet? I nearly died saving Elsa and the world! If it wasn't for me, your country would be no more and- don't you walk away from me, I'm not finished!"

She continued her tirade, pursuing him. She could hear Kristoff and the others shouting at her to stop, something about thin ice, but she was not going to give up on him now. Perhaps it would be better to send him back and-

 _Thin ice!?_

A few inches was all that stood between her and the black depths. Schmidt was walking further still. "Wait!" she pleaded. He stopped and faced her, still angry. "I heard that the Snow Queen's sister was reckless." he said, "I did not expect it to be so understated."

"Let me explain! Elsa recieved a message from Hammerfall: We bring you to them and they'll stop the insubordinates attacking us! Please understand!"

The insubordinates? he thought. Have they gained so much leverage since he ran away?

"She also told me what happened in the garden. You think I wouldn't be curious?"

Schmidt observed his situation, and there was only one way out of it. "Madame," he said mournfully, "I realise what you are doing is out of love for Her Majesty, and that is admirable, but see it from my perpective: If I return to Hammerfall, they will execute an innocent man, and to die for a senseless cause goes against everything my father taught me. I will not surrender, and for all it is worth, I am sorry."

Anna watched in horror as the ice beneath him gave way, his face unchanged as he plunged into the lake.

She stood motionless as a dilemma appeared before her: Dive after him and she would freeze to death, but to return empty-handed meant Arendelle facing an uncertain future. As she struggled to make a decision, Kristoff approached her carefully. "Anna," he said, "I know whatever you're trying to do means a lot to you, but you have to accept you can't always win. I don't want to lose you and neither does Elsa. I beg of you, just this once, _let it go_."

The last three words was all she heard. The rest was drowned out by her scolding heart and mind, for either way, she had failed herself, her nation, but most of all her sister. The fustration became too much - she screamed and stamped on the ice.

She had no memory of falling in, only the sudden numbness of paralysis, her body rendered stiff as stone and every nerve howling in shock; she could not even hold her breath as cold water filled her lungs. Worse still, her mind was trapped in a vicious cycle of anger and despair, constantly repeating itself, before slowly fading into the abyss that now enveloped her.

The last thing she experienced was a faintly physical, almost otherworldy sensation of moving upwards...


	4. Flutterbies

**Chapter 4**

"You stupid bitch!"

Elsa was in the master bedroom removing her makeup when, without warning, she shouted at the mirror. The outburst took her by surprise, but she felt it was deserved - she was told Anna was chasing Schmidt across a frozen lake and both fell through. Schmidt was never found, which was bad enough, but had Kristoff not caught up with Anna and pulled her out... She could not even think how the alternative would affect her. She knew her sister's impulsive temper would get her in peril, only this time the fault lied firmly with herself - had she not been so eager to tell her about Schmidt, none of this would happen. Indeed, he would still be alive.

"You'll get over it," she said to her reflection, "It won't take long."

Who am I kidding? she thought. If there was a skill she aquired through four years of negotiating with people, it was deducing one's intentions by studying his body language whilst keeping hers hidden. The notion of decieving herself only made it more disheartening.

All that remained of Schmidt was his toy soldier, standing by the mirror. It was an exceptional piece - one could figure it less a toy and more an attempt to create the most articulated miniature of a human being. Whereas any other figure only moved, if at all, on hinged shoulders, this one had most of the body's joints present: Hinges for kness and elbows, ball and socket for shoulders, hips, waist, neck, ankles, all fastened tightly with the tiniest screws and rods. The paint was applied so evenly its lustre appeared liquid, and it was almost frictionless to the touch.

It must have given him a sense of security, or perhaps, like herself, it was a reminder of someone who left a deep impression - most likely his father, if Anna's recollection of his story was to be believed. She manipulated it into a bowing posture, the same as when he greeted her this morning. She held it to her bosom and sighed, encasing it in ice before putting it back on the desk.

She peered out of the window. It was late night. The town was asleep, sprinkled with frost. The waters of the harbour were calm, ships gently swaying in a rhythm of steady breath. In the sky, stars were shining weaker than usual. Even the crescent moon appeared to look upwards in melancholy, as if Heaven itself was in mourning. Was there anything to at least distract her from this sorrow? As she returned to the dressing table, she realised this dimly lit room had not changed since her ascension. It was likely that it remained the same since her parents died, especially the screen, looking tired and a little shabby compared to the coat hanging on its edge.

That coat was not there before.

Elsa felt a sense of unease within, her heart beating faster from the possibility she was not alone. She sat still, hoping whoever else was in the room had not noticed her suspicion. Focusing on the mirror, her eyes thinned as she scanned for anything that was out of place. However, they kept returning to the coat. Though it was in just enough shade to hide its details, there was something eerily familiar about it. She was becoming afraid, the sweat on her palms turning to crystals as she saw a dark shape from the opposite side of her reflection. In that moment, she lunged, firing ice at the silhouette.

She was caught. But it was not the shadow's hand deflecting her arms that stopped her. It was not the other hand clamping her mouth that silenced her. It was the eyes as they glinted in the light - the narrow, dark grey eyes of Schmidt. He placed his finger on his lips. It took a moment for her to understand what he meant. When she nodded, he slowly moved his hand away. As the initial surprise receded, a torrent of emotions swirled inside her, though fury was most prominent as she whispered.

"I thought you were dead!"

"And I must let the world believe it."

"You've got some nerve coming back here to tell me that! Why have you?"

He closed his eyes with a look of disappointment - at himself.

"I did not like the thought of hurting you."

"Coming from someone who almost killed my sister!"

"My apologies. I did not know I could be so enchanting. Farewell, Your Majesty."

She felt it better to see Schmidt leave now. It would be easier to forget him this way. She wondered, why did she allow herself to be wooed by this fugitive? Why did she tell Anna, knowing she would risk her life to find out more about him? Why was he so infatuated as to reassure her he was still alive?

Why was she holding his hand?

Her anger subsided upon seeing this. The other major emotion within her was the one she wanted to throw away, yet her feelings for him remained. He was another human after all, and no human is perfect, even herself. It gave her an idea: If he was young, and by Anna's admission, younger than Elsa, he could still be impressionable. An exciting yet violent streak grew within her - she wanted to use her power as queen; she wanted to play with his heart.

"Madame?" asked Schmidt, concerned at her silence.

Where to start? she thought. It would be best to ease him in, but what subject could do so? As she considered her options, she remembered his speech when they first met.

"You told me a painting at the academy was what inspired you. I'm surprised it was on display after the Big Freeze."

He tried to move away, only his hand was stuck - Elsa had froze her palm to his. All he had to do was- No, he thought. He supposed just one answer was required before she would let him be.

"It was not. When I first saw it on the day of my induction, it was covered up, to be taken to storage. I asked what it was, and they replied it was the vile queen responsible. Immediately I was curious; surely one should at least know the face of a possible enemy."

Elsa recalled two paintings of herself - the one in Arendelle with Anna, and a solo portrait delivered to Hammerfall as a token of apology.

"I had to know, so one night I snuck out to see it. I remembered steeling myself as I lifted the cover, to unveil the image of a demon..."

He appeared to grow younger as his sharp face relaxed, looking elsewhere in marvel, as if he bore witness to divine intervention - a potential opening.

"Not even my father's mantra prepared me for that moment, seeing the way you looked. I was overwhelmed with wonder and joy, to discover somewhere in this world there is a woman so powerful, so beautiful and yet so sincere..."

"Like this?"

She looked at him slightly from the side and below, her fingers placed lightly on her chest and smiled with a hint of remorse - the posture from the painting. Schmidt immediately looked away. She maintained her pose, waiting for what would happen next. A few seconds later, his eyes turned to hers.

There it is! she thought, spying the chink in his mental armour. Feeling his pulse quicken, her expression turned a little more sultry, her cheeks turning pink with excitement, the smile now a razor cutting into his soul. Schmidt was caught off-guard, his eyes narrowed as he resisted his urges. Elsa placed her hand on her mouth, keeping herself from giggling. Now she was struggling to maintain her stance - she never had this much fun since the days of her childhood. The two were locked in battle, holding their facades as long as they could while she turned up her charm. "Why must you do this?" he begged, barely holding back his pleasure. You can't resist forever! she thought. She wanted to wear him down, so when he would break, he would plead her to mend him.

But it was Elsa who broke. Seeing this steely-eyed soldier reduced to a schoolboy standing before a wench made her burst into laughter, not realising she had frozen the floor beneath her feet until she slipped. Her dignity was saved as he catched her, cradling her slender frame. "Oh Schmidt!" she cried, regaining her breath, "I wanted you to feel how I did in the garden!"

He could not help but notice the silk gown she wore draping over her, implying the kind of figure that would make Venus jealous: Svelte legs, a delicate waist, and those soft round- stop it! he thought, looking around flustered for somewhere to put her. "You have proven your point," he admitted, blushing, "It feels like there are flutterbies- I mean butterflies inside me!"

She allowed her body to melt, losing herself in that warm, sensual sensation as when he held her this morning.

"Flutterby sounds better!"

This is going better than expected! she thought. Visions flashed before her - she was always pestered by her retainers that she needed a suitor, and here she was, lounging in the arms of a most suitable gentleman. "But Madame," he said, returning to his usual serious tone as he layed her on the bed, "You do know the longer I stay in Arendelle, the more dangerous it will become."

Her fantasies turned to stone as cold reality set in. If she wanted Schmidt to live, she would have to let him run free. She made one more request for him. "Before you leave, listen: You say my existence brings out the best in you. But I know you can do so much more..."

She glanced at him, desire in her deep blue eyes.

"...If you let me kiss you."

The intimacy was interrupted as a group of men crashed through the door. Elsa jerked straight up in confusion. Schmidt stepped forward, poised for combat.

"Schmidt!" one of them shouted, drawing his sword, "By order from the Republic of Hammerfall, you are under arrest for the crimes of-"

"Arson, desertion, treason and murder. Three of which I have not commited."

He observed the guards. Five of them. They appeared strong, taller than himself, but their lack of experience was evident. The man with the sword, the captain, seemed to be the only one in the group who acted like he had been in battle.

"Give yourself up," he said, "and no harm will come to you!"

Schmidt scoffed. "If you want to please Hammerfall," he said coldly, "you should send me back there in a casket."

"Aren't you the brave one!" the captain retorted, "But if you're so willing to die like, as your folk call them, a hund, we'd be happy to oblige!"

"And if I told you I am a jagdhund?"

The captain did not answer; Schmidt knew he had heard about them. The others looked at each other perplexed; they did not. One asked

"You think you're a match for the Queen's Guards?"

This one looks easily swayed by pride, thought Schmidt. He sneered and replied

"How about you come here and find out, milk drinker?"

"What did you just call me?"

"I hear your mother's milk is delicious and nutritious!"

Enraged, the guard charged straight at him, knocking over the captain. He threw his fist at Schmidt's face, but Schmidt anticipated this. In a single motion, he calmy slipped past the punch and focused the momentum into his own fist, thrusting it into the assailant's stomach from below. The sheer impact lifted the guard upwards, before crumpling to the ground, his face in shock as he was left gasping for air.

The other three immediately ran in. He figured they would attempt to surround him - an unfavourable situation. To counter their tactic would cause considerable disruption, possibly enough to make escape possible. He sprinted, projecting his body into the guard on his right, sending him backwards and tripping over the captain, almost landing on his blade. The remaining two made their moves and dashed towards him. Schmidt saw the one in front attempt a tackle. He stepped back, grabbing his attacker's arm and using his weight to swing him around. The last guard halted to avoid being hit, only to see his comrade's head slammed into a bedpost. The body bounced back and hit the floor spread-eagled.

Schmidt slowly moved toward the remaining opponent. His lupine gaze pierced the guard's spirit, like a magnified beam burning through paper. His would-be enemy stumbled back, knocking over items on the dressing table; He had been reduced to a terrified beast. Schmidt would leave him space to retreat out the door. As the guard ran off screaming, he noticed there was still one threat left. The captain stood back on his feet, blocking his escape route. His eyes wide with fury from seeing his men, supposedly Arendelle's finest, sprawling in defeat.

"I will give you one chance to surrender." He said, aiming his sword at Schmidt's face.

"And what?" he answered, "To prolong my death? Better you kill me now. It would show Hammerfall you are not to be messed with - if you could keep them from discovering the details of tonight." There was an air of confidence about him as he marveled at his work. It was, in reality, a ploy to goad the captain into making an attack.

"I mean, come on! These are your best soldiers? I have seen braver hedgehogs and tougher rabbits!"

"Try saying that with a split tongue, scum!"

He raised his sword high and swung down. He thought the blade got lodged when he could not move it, and was astounded to see it clasped between Schmidt's hands, as if he was saved by prayer. His bewilderment soon turned to agony as Schmidt delivered a kick to the groin, taking his sword as he prepared to strike him down. But he could not strike - it was as if the sword was holding him back. He realised who it actually was as he felt a chill creep down his back. Gathering all his might, he broke the hold, shattering the blade into frigid fragments. Only the hilt remained in his hand as it brushed past the captain's face.

Elsa had been watching him throughout the fight. Though she had never been on a battlefield, she knew he stood above most troopers. There was a natural, almost balletic finesse to his movements, honed from years of harsh training - he could not get them wrong even if he tried, and his use of deception to make his enemies act irrationally was admirable. Here was a human at his very best; _He_ was the toy soldier.

But she drew the line when he was about to kill the captain. He looked to her, unsure of what to say.

"You claimed you haven't murdered anyone," she told him as a mother would discipline her child, "I will not have you commit it here."

"You wanted me to live," he replied, "That was my chance!"

"Do you want to hurt me?"

That question held Schmidt between shame and confusion. Shame as, like Elsa said, he considered it unthinkable to upset her. Confusion as to why she would not let him go, unless she wanted- No! he thought, shutting out the seed she must have planted in his mind. "This is no game!" he said, "Whatever you are up to, I am a Hammerfall soldier, and you will not tempt me to betray my brothers!"

Unbeknown to him, another figure waited outside the room, listening in. A tall middle-aged man whose face was cut with deep wrinkles and a furrowed brow, developed through years of barking orders and punishments, featuring a hooked nose with burning bright brown eyes. He was the Commander of Arendelle's forces, and his voice was as rough as his handlebar moustache. He calmy approached behind Schmidt and yelled

"Name and rank soldier!"

Instinctively he stood attention to him, saluted and responded

"Sir! Gerhard Schmidt! Cap-"

His face grimaced, cursing to himself at revealing his identity. "Captain Gerhard Schmidt of the Jagdhunde?" said the Commander, raising an eyebrow, "That must make you the Wolfhund I've heard rumours of."

"The what?" Elsa asked.

"A hound that hunts wolves, Your Highness. To put it simply, Hammerfall's very best, and to attain that title at your age, Schmidt, most impressive!". He looked down on him intently.

"But then, I should expect no less from the son of Ludwig."

"Father?" said a puzzled Schmidt, "I know people held him in high regard but he was just a smithy!"

"That's what he _wanted_ you to believe, boy!"

Elsa was disgruntled at his witholding of information. "Why didn't you tell me this?" she asked.

"Allow me to explain, Your Highness. At the meeting, I had to feign an unknowing mind to see if the Grand General was being honest about Schmidt. If you remember what he said, then you know he wasn't providing the whole truth. Why would he do so, you ask? If our quarry really was "just" a soldier, he'd be wanted dead. In fact, searching for him, with Arendelle's forests, would be a fool's errand. Thankfully, and unfortunately, you've become... fond of him."

"I beg your pardon?" she snapped back, "He's enamored with me, not the other way! Sure, he is charismatic, but we've only just met!"

The Commander rolled his eyes. "You would make a brilliant actress, My Lady, but do grow up! We are trying to prevent war, and to do that, we must gleam any knowledge available to us." His wrinkles deepened further in a scathing earnesty.

"Even sister secrets."

Elsa stood motionless. Her face did not show it, but her anger manifested in the form of jagged ice seeping out of her clenched fists, slowly forming into gauntlets. Her mind pleaded to stop and think, her heart begged her to punch him now. She was ready to embrace the latter when Schimdt placed his hands on her shoulders and spoke softly.

"Madame, calm yourself. Never let emotion overcome reason."

His voice alone brought tranquility to her, arms wet as the ice gently slipped off.

"There will be many more troops outside. This is entirely my mistake. I chose to ignore what I just said to you, my father's advice, and I must pay for it." He opened his hands in surrender. This pleased the Commander.

"At least somebody here has sense!"

He ordered the guards to wait oustide and escort Schmidt into custody, noticing they were still in pain. They ought to be more careful next time, he thought. A notion came to his mind, making him smile, though he would wait until tomorrow to implement it. As Schmidt was about to walk, Elsa spun him to face her.

"Gerhard," she said, thinking such a noble-sounding name was utterly fitting for one like him, "If you truly want my admiration..."

She grabbed his perfectly tied mauve cravate, pulling him closer before removing it. Her whisper was almost a plea.

 _"Fortis fortuna adiuvat."_

They noticed someone else had entered the room - Anna had woken up from the commotion and the Commander's booming voice, but when she saw her sister and Schmidt together, she walked straight up to him and threw a punch, Elsa caught her fist just in time.

"What is wrong with you Elsa?" she said furiously, "He's been nothing but trouble for all of us!"

"What he did or did not is irrelevant." Elsa replied, "He is an officer and he's given himself up, and so should be treated with respect. Commander, take him away. Oh, and one more thing - get my tailor to measure Gerhard and make him a new suit as soon as possible."

"That's a great idea!" exclaimed the Commander - he was certain it would help his own. As the men exited, Anna looked at her sister in disgust - she glimpsed Elsa wink at Schmidt just before he turned away.

"He's a liar!" she cried, "A hypocrite! A lone wolf! Can't you see what he's doing to you? What if he's a spy sent to trick you into undermining Arendelle? What do you say about that?"

There was one part of her outburst, as well as the stare Schmidt gave to the guard that reminded Elsa of the meeting, specifically when Anna finished the General's sentence as he described him.

"You've met him before."

Anna stepped back aghast. She was fumbling her words denying it, but it was hopeless - few follies were greater than lying to Elsa. "Please understand sister," she said sheepishly, "He saved my life as I came back from the state visit. To repay my debt, I promised him to tell no one he's here."

Her confession felt more like a release. With her secret out, she returned to her usual outspoken self. "But I still don't trust him. That's the trouble with you Elsa, you're no different to me when you see something you like. Sure, you hold it in better, but now this scoundrel's come along and you let him bewitch you! Don't you realise you're playing with-"

Her blood boiled at her own realisation. "I get it now," she snarked, "Did you freeze the floor and slip hoping you'd land on his you-know-what?"

Elsa stared stolidly at her sister, arms folded. Sometimes there was no point trying to convince Anna once she let her temper get the better of herself. Doing so would only make Elsa snap, and she learned that the hard way - a heated argument with her at the coronation was what made her unleash winter onto the world. Let it go, she thought, but it was hard to drain her own anger bottling up inside.

"Fine," Anna conceded, "I won't stop you. But when the rumours spread, the rest of the world hears about them, and when Arendelle becomes its laughing stock, if it's not overrun, you only have yourself to blame." Before leaving, she added

"And if you're so desperate, go pleasure yourself! Oh wait, you need gloves!"

 _"GET OUT!"_

* * *

Anna lay in her bed, furiously chewing on chocolate. An hour had passed since her tirade against Elsa, but her annoyance lingered, preventing her from sleeping. What was equally irksome was that even with her back turned, she knew Kristoff was watching her.

"You know it won't help if you keep it to yourself."

Anna's husband, like herself, was a person of contrasts. His tall, broad frame and blonde hair was offset by his gentle brown eyes and an easy-going, grounded nature - the earth to her sky. Before they met, he spent his life breaking and delivering ice from the north to Arendelle with his reindeer Sven. He first encountered Anna as she searched for her sister during the Big Freeze. Initially they treated each other with disdain - she thought Kristoff was not taking her seriously while he dislked her happy-go-lucky attitude, especially as they traversed through dangerous territory of thick snow, wolves and sheer cliffs. But over time, they had learned to appreciate the other's way of thought, eventually blossoming into love (though they did not admit it until she nearly died). As thanks to his efforts, Elsa had him appointed as Royal Ice Breaker, allowing him to marry Anna.

What was more remarkable was that he had a vast knowledge of how people thought and acted; they often went to him for relationship advice. Even Elsa would not have been so sharp in reading others' motives without his help. When asked how he aquired it, Kristoff replied he knew "special friends" who taught him as he grew up. He declined to explain further.

But now, lying in bed with Anna, he was concerned at her mood. She was still frowning, only the anger had dissipated, leaving only anxiety behind. The amber glow of the lamp beside her made the image more jarring.

"If you don't feel like talking about it," he said, "I understand."

She sighed, wondering if it was unusual for thinking she wanted to stay angry about the situation, but he was right. She had been through this many times before, and having someone who was willing to listen was carthatic.

"But if I don't feel like talking, then it's proof I do need to talk about it."

"Do you want a cuddle too?"

That was one thing she could never resist. Just thinking about it made her body tingle. She grinned at him, her face shone in the light.

"Go on then!"

He wrapped his big arms around her torso. The deep pressure was a sense of relief, squeezing out the anguish from her body, as the night's shadow retreats from the morning sun.

"Do you want to discuss it now?" he asked.

"Not yet," she answered, "Talk about something else first."

"What was Hammerfall like?"

It dawned on her what happened since she returned to Arendelle gave her no time to speak of the state visit. She could not wait to do so.

"You want to know what I think of it? It's pleasant - if you consider a city state surrounded by desolate plains and cold winds pleasant. As long as you don't mind working with dangerous machines, so noisy you can't hear yourself think, giving off the aroma of smoke and grease that takes ages to wash off your skin. And that was after the Red Morning. If I was there before, it'd drive me insane! You have to give credit to the citizens though; even after that disaster, they salvaged what they could, built makeshift workshops and carried on as if nothing's happened. "Business as usual" they'd say. You can see pride and determination through the soot on their faces. No wonder Elsa wanted some of them here!"

There's the boisterous girl I love! thought Kristoff. Keeping her going would help her relax further. He said "I hear Hammerfall loves showing off new technology. Surely they've let you see what the engineers came up with?"

"Those guys? They were so excited when I arrived, they couldn't wait! I was shown an experiment where they had this small boat on a pond. It had some sort of metal block with all sorts of crazy looking things on it. They called it a steam engine, and it was linked to what looked like a waterwheel at the back. One of them put in a few lumps of coal and fired it up. It made a lot of smoke and noise, and I was worried, but they were in glee. Then it happened: The boat moved! By itself! They cheered, shouting "No longer will our ships be slaves to the wind!" You should've been there!"

"Anyway, the next day I was at the military academy, and boy is that place grand! It's got a library and a theatre for one thing, so their boys are cultured as well as tough, and miles of land dedicated to artillery practice alone!. They prepared a few demonstrations for me. The troops were utterly disciplined and never missed a beat! And the cavalry, oh those beautiful horses, their dressage was flawless! Hate to admit it, but it puts our army to shame."

"Finally, there was a tour of the goverment building. As I walked into the assembly hall, the first thing I noticed were gigantic portraits of the founding fathers, overlooking the room. As I listened to the day's debate, you can feel their legacy, to think they created something that grew so fast from an unproven idea. But they're no longer with us. It makes me wonder what they'd think of Hammerfall now."

Anna layed placid. Kristoff knew it was a sign that she wanted to stay happy about the visit, but she could not.

"It wasn't all delightful, wasn't it?"

"I'm afraid so. Remembering now there were odd things about it all. At the experiment, some of the engineers didn't seem very pleased about the result. I mean, this is their latest innovation, so why would they be sad? The assembly hall in the government building had no windows. The only lights were at head height, so if you looked up past the portraits, you may as well be staring into the abyss. Actually, it's as if they're being... forgotten, as terrible as it sounds. Everywhere I went, especially at the academy, I had this feeling of being watched by someone, waiting for the right time to- Sorry, It's giving me the creeps thinking about it."

"The insubordinates?"

"It came to a point where I couldn't wait to reach the church. That place is so quiet for being in the middle of the city - I reckon it's what keeps the citizens sane. There was only a nun present when I entered, sitting and in prayer. It was a relief when I sat down and closed my eyes, but it didn't last long. I could feel something coming, very slowly but it was there. Stupidly I tried to ignore it, so of course when I couldn't take it anymore I turned real fast to whoever was there, and to my shock it was the nun - and she sped out of the building faster than lightning! It hurts me to think, in my opinion, there are only two role models for Hammerfall - and one of them is a criminal."

"But you like him, don't you?" said Kristoff. She wanted to deny it, trying to fidget her way out of his hug. But like with Elsa, doing so was fruitless. She sighed and layed her head on his chest.

"I don't love him! I certainly won't choose a wolf over the big fuzzy bear holding me now. But he's seems a genuinely nice guy - if he lets you in. Even knowing that, as soon as I entered Elsa's room and saw the two together, I flipped! I know I shouldn't have, but I don't know why."

"You're jealous."

"What?"

"When Elsa told you that morning, you were in ecstasy to think she could be living with the same feelings as you have with me. Trouble is, you love your sister, moreso than me in fact, and now that you know someone else is getting her attention, you fear being left out. Now that you're past the initial shock, you'll eventually come to accept it."

Anna groaned, pressing her arms into his; she wanted to be squeezed tighter. "I'm so stupid!" she cried, "I only just figured out I why snapped! Well, there's what you said, but also seeing her so smitten about a guy she just met, it reminded me of... _him_."

Anna's first "love" was a nobleman from the Southern Isles, who she met during Elsa's coronation. She was enchanted by his dashing looks and charming personality - it was her biggest dream to find a worthy husband. When Elsa disappeared in the wake of the Big Freeze, he offered his help in finding her, for it would ensure he and Anna would be married as reward. In truth, he wanted to eliminate the sisters and take Arendelle for himself, even revealing his motive to Anna as she was dying from a frozen heart. He was imprisoned for treason when she survived, exposing his deception to the world.

"Schmidt seems to be the opposite - he'll decieve you, but I think he believes it's for the good of Arendelle and Hammerfall. You know, it looks as if he's always... fighting?"

What was he fighting? The only lead she had was his father's last words, which fit with how Schmidt always seemed to suppress his feelings, but it suggested he had been like that well before the Red Morning. If he was holding a secret, it must have been rooted in something deeper than loyalty to his father.

"I'll tell you what," said Kristoff, "I might be able to see him tomorrow, see if I can get to his intentions. That'll help ease your heart."

With this sentence, Anna felt at complete rest as she told him to let go. She rolled onto her back, limbs limp as she looked to him with tempting eyes.

"Why are you like that?" Kristoff asked.

"Why do you think?" she purred, "After everything you did today, you've earned it!"

Throughout the night, the landing echoed with the sounds of Anna, giggling, whimpering, moaning in pleasure. Elsa heard it all as she lay sadly in her bed, tucked in Schmidt's coat, with the toy soldier wrapped in his cravate.


	5. A legend untold

**Chapter 5**

The player wondered wether to call or fold.

He was playing cards with two opponents. There was supposed to be a third, but nobody knew where he was. His loss, he thought, but he was also the least experienced at the game, which would have made it easier, not that it mattered - the backroom they were in was pitch black, save the lantern hung low from the ceiling. The soot that built up over time was so thick only the table and the players' hands were visible. His vision was further impaired by the mist of tobacco smoke and the stench of alchohol. Not seeing their faces made it all the more difficult to make sound judgement.

His hand had two pairs, a lowly combination compared to others, but what truly made him irate was the diamonds - To cash in on the popularity of Elsa, some manufacturers changed the suit's colour to blue, but in the yellow light, they appeared black. He would have smirked if he was able to do so.

"Do hurry, Sweety," said the second player, his grubby fingers leaving grease as he was fidgeting the cards, "We don't have all night!"

"It's _Sweeney_ ," he corrected him, "Though you would call me that, knowing your appetite. How much chocolate did you eat yesterday?"

"Well pardon me for enjoying life while I still can, unlike you, mannequin! You really ought to try them - theirs is devilishly moreish!"

"Watch your language, Michel!" snapped the third player, whose small hands and slender fingers were reduced to skin and bone, "If that's your best reason for the people to... come over there, the plan will be for naught!"

Michel's hands placed his cards face down. "I'll give you that, Donaldo, but it's easy for you. Just tell them it's a holy war and everyone will mobilise - if you could avoid being stepped on!"

Donaldo's fingers clicked as he clenched his fists in rage. "Don't you ever mock me!" he snarled, "I hold the hearts of this nation! I posess more power than the both of you! I'll curse you like I-"

He sputtered violently, triggering sniggers from the others. One would think a man in his advanced years would learn to refrain from getting angry knowing this would happen. Oh well, thought Sweeney, young arseholes grow into old arseholes. Noticing his opponents' movements, he estimated he had the best hand and called. They revealed the cards, and to his dismay, his hand was beaten by Michel's - a linked sequence of diamonds, topped with a portrait of the Snow Queen.

"Straight flush, demon high!"

He was about to rein in his winnings when someone opened the door. The silhouette was that of an officer.

"Is that you Yevgeny?" asked Sweeney, "What kept you?"

"No sir," replied the officer, "He is busy making preparations."

"Preparations for what?" wheezed Donaldo, still recovering from his cough, "We're supposed to discuss things together before implementing any action!"

"You must have been here all night gentlemen: Schmidt has been captured."

It took a moment for that sentence to sink in. They were beginning to think it was impossible, knowing his abilities. "How?" said Michel.

"We do not know, only it is confirmed."

With this in mind, the players had to reconsider the next step in their plan. "Tell Yevgeny we will meet later," said Sweeney. As the officer was about to leave, he added

"Just remember, we took a big risk promoting you. Wether you bring Schmidt back or kill him is entirely at your discretion, but in the name of justice, do not let him escape!"

"In the name of prosperity," said Michel, "You will be richly rewarded, should you succeed."

"And by the grace of Heaven," warned Donaldo, "Failure will bring... well, let's just say there are fates worse than death."

The officer was stroking his face as he listened. They could not tell if it was in enthusiasm or impatience. "You needn't worry, gentlemen," he reassured them, "I have my own reasons for his retribution."

"I'm sure you do, Wolfhund."

Sunlight beamed though the large windows, illuminating the mess hall as Arendelle's troops were enjoying lunch. They did not know it, but the brightness kept their morale afloat. Few of them cared to know the room was designed by a Hammerfall architect, or that the folding chairs and tables they were using were two of the republic's earliest inventions - this was a place where they could discuss what was on their minds. For some it was the musings of everyday life, for others it was speculating the outcomes should either state declare war. Either way, none of them looked forward to facing death, or that they were just as capable of inflicting suffering to the enemy as the enemy would to them, but the thoughts were difficult to cast aside with the captive among them.

Gerhard Schmidt sat quietly, flanked by two burly men. They were picked from the royal grenadiers, who required such strength for the bombs they used in battle. But strength alone was not enough to make a worthy warrior, especially of their size, which would come at the cost of agility. He used this to his advantage when he defeated, and earned the respect of, his comrade Stierhund, who the men reminded him of. He had already finished his meal and maintained an upright attitude - it was his way of keeping the feeling of being watched at bay, something he never liked even now, but he understood why he was: Not only was Hammerfall's most wanted finally caught, but it was also rumoured he won the affections of Queen Elsa herself. The glimpses he recieved from the troops was a mixture of fear and respect. It was the elder officers who regarded him with contempt.

His new suit was the uniform of a Hammerfall regular: A short tunic and trousers, made from jean fabric dyed olive green, brass buttons to a high collar and completed with black leather belt, boots and gloves. A plain design that was faithful to Hammerfall's doctrine of function over form, in stark contrast to the more colourful outfits of the Arendelle army. He actually missed the loose fitting of his old clothes, though he was still grateful of wearing new ones after weeks of being on the run, especially when he met the tailor, also from Hammerfall, and among the best of the profession. Her Majesty has serious political clout to have procured him, he thought.

A bell rang, signifying the return to training. As the troops left, Schmidt felt the weight of the grenadiers' hands keeping him seated. When the hall was empty, footsteps of a lone person echoed. A steady, confident rhythm that slowed as they neared. He already figured it was the Commander before he came into his view. "Schmidt," he said, "the Hammerfall army will arrive to bring you home tomorrow. With the time given, I have a favour to ask." Schmidt stayed silent, seeing as there was no choice but to accept.

"My men have heard many things about you, but the only "fact" they have is that you're merely a standard trooper. What I want from you is to inspire them to do their best. I have prepared a demonstration for them to see your skills, and you will make them believe every Hammerfall soldier is as good as you. Follow me."

Schmidt enjoyed the brief sense of relief as the grenadiers removed their hands before he stood. As the group made their way through the compound, the Commander asked

"Say, you must've heard many rumours about your father growing up. What do you consider the most ridiculous?"

Indeed there were. Among the more outlandish ones Schmidt had overheard back in Hammerfall were tales of his father running on water, walking through walls, vanishing into thin air, summoned by black magic, a womaniser, a collector of souls, a hellspawn... It would take all day to recite them all.

"There was one that made me chuckle." he replied, "He defeated the king of Arendelle in a duel."

"Those cheeky bastards would say that wouldn't they? Anyway, allow me to enlighten you with the legend of Ludwig Schmidt. You'd better listen as I'll only tell you once; just thinking about him makes me sick."

They resumed the walk, this time slower - it was going to be a long tale.

"Where to start... Ah, yes. Do you know the joke of the Southern Isles' two favourite pastimes?"

"Inbreeding and infighting. Who does not?"

"That was what their nobility was up to many years ago. Always vying for power and prestige, through any and all means, be it on the battlefield, via deals both public and backroom, even in the bedroom. There was one particularly depraved prince who did some horrific deeds on a whim. Once, he ordered the massacre of a minor noble house simply because they wouldn't allow their daughter to attend his "body feasts". Your father was said to be from that house."

"My father, a noble?"

"He would've been better known if he was back then, he was more likely to have been a retainer rather than a relative. Anyway, the prince's reign of decadence continued for some years when tales began to circulate of a mercenary leader who was said to bring victory wherever he went. Though it was said his methods were unorthodox, as was his men - army deserters, escaped prisoners and other ne'er-do-wells, he had defeated more powerful lords, mainly in acts of vengeance. Those who battled against him and survived described him as a demon - sly as a fox and vicious as a bear. The common folk looked up to him as a saviour, even claiming he was the true successor of the Southern Isles itself!"

"Naturally the prince wanted the services of such a talented man. When his request was sent, he recieved a letter soon after, but upon opening it, read "Your Highness, I hereby make my announcement that I will have revenge for the murder of my noble family. You cannot run or hide, and your immoral rule will end with the removal of your head. Yours sincerely, Ludwig Schmidt." Terrified, he retreated to his private fortress with his best men."

"Nobody knows for sure what exactly happened when your father attacked, only it was a stormy night and the prince's army outnumbered Ludwig's considerably. It was said to begin with some explosions at various points on the perimeter. How the defenders didn't react to them is a mystery, but they grew more fearful as their numbers dwindled with each clap of thunder. The prince tried to flee, hoping nobody would notice him in the chaos, but he got stuck in the mud thanks to the rain, and, in a flash of lightning, stood your father, ready to exact justice. The morning after, Ludwig presented the head for all to see - its final face was one of terror."

It would have been a most daring raid with plenty of preparation, thought Schmidt - using thunder to mask the sound of the explosives and their attacks, taking the enemy through shock and awe. It would be feasible if his father was of the Jagdhunde, the only problem being that its conception came after Hammerfall's creation.

"Of course, the royal family didn't take kindly to one of their own being assassinated, by a dog of war no less, and with Ludwig's popularity, they feared a revolt, so they issued the the biggest ever bounty on his head. Somehow, he managed to escape the Southern Isles only, to our horror, for him and his motley crew arrive here! The king of Arendelle personally intervened, convinced he was out to drag his land into war. When asked what he was doing here, Ludwig replied he only seeked passage to the newly-founded Republic of Hammerfall, claiming he found a place that fit with his ideology. I remember seeing him, almost everything he wore was black - the feather on his hat, his beard, coat, breeches, cavalry sabre, the cape draped over one shoulder; a valravn who'd just returned from the Renaissance!"

"The late queen was also present, at this time carrying Elsa. She pleaded with His Majesty to just let him pass, but he was young and proud, and Ludwig knew it. So what did your father do? He gave her compliments, each one more intimate than the last. This riled up the king to no end, but Ludwig was always one step ahead - when His Highness ordered his men to ready their weapons, Ludwig ordered his to aim. With the advantage of his troops lost, he challenged your father to a duel - if the king won, Ludwig would hand himself and his company in. If Ludwig won, he would be granted access to Hammerfall."

"The king drew his sword and waited, but your father just stood there with a raised eyebrow and folded arms. You could see the ire as my late liege grew impatient, so Ludwig began to laugh, claiming he was unfit to be a stable boy, never mind king! Of course, he could take it no more and attacked. That scoundrel didn't move until the final moment..."

The Commander looked ahead, only he was not thinking of the world around him, but of the moment he wished to forget.

"Seeing your father strike as he drew his sabre, it's impossible to believe anyone could be that fast! It appeared time had stopped right after their exchange. A few seconds later, to my dismay, the king dropped his sword and fell to his knees, clutching his arm - Ludwig drew first blood, thus the duel was his. He scorned him, saying he let emotion overcome reason. And just when it couldn't get more insulting, he approached the queen, told her to take care of her husband and kissed her, leaving her flushed!"

Schmidt was stunned. Of all the stories he overheard, the one he disregarded the most was true? He realised something did not add up between that time and now. "For saying he was a legend," he queried, "I have not heard anyone speak of his deeds, here or Hammerfall. Why?"

This was something the Commander looked forward to explaining as he grinned. "Such was the king's humiliation that he decreed it a crime to speak of Ludwig or that day ever again! As for Hammerfall, we don't know, but your existence is said to be a result of his downfall. I like to think fatherhood mellowed him."

They stopped, having reached their destination, the firing range, just off the coast. Schmidt was concerned it was more than the army who were spectating. "I understand the troops," he said, "But why are the civilians watching too?"

"A few more men encouraged to enlist wouldn't hurt either."

The day was bright and crisp, the cold wind stung his face as he observed the targets - fifteen clay pots, three sets of five at various distances. As the Commander made his speech to the crowd, his coarse voice and the targets faded into ambience as Schmidt stared at the waves ahead.

He allowed to immerse himself in this moment, for there to be nothing in this realm but him between sea and sky. He could feel as if he was floating in the space that represented the enlightened state of mind extolled by the philosophers of old, before their words and meanings were twisted by time and fetid minds. In his happiness, the horizon appeared to smile back at him, and as he looked up, the clouds flowed in the wind like hair before parting, and he fell into the wide open skies, into those deep blue eyes...

"Schmidt!"

He was almost thankful the Commander's harsh yell pulled him back to reality - it would have been embarrassing if daydreaming was also a hallmark of the Hammerfall soldier.

A rifle was presented to him. Underneath his stoic appearance he was shocked - this weapon was a military secret, issued only to the Jagdhunde, and one of the most advanced of Hammerfall's innovations. With high-velocity bullets and adjustable aiming sights, one could use it for precision shooting at long distances, but with its fast lever action and detachable magazine, it was also great in storming enemy positions, what his former unit favoured. He even conceptualised a strategem where a group would use its rapid fire to keep the enemy pinned, allowing the main force to safely advance. It far surpassed the current issue breech-loading rifles, which the Arendelle army had as per the agreement made in the wake of the Big Freeze.

He took aim. As he calculated the adjustments for distance, the direction of the wind and its speed, a blossom petal landed on the end of the rifle. Unusual, he thought - how could any plant be blooming midwinter? Such an anomaly he had to cherish, its pure whiteness glistened in the sun, before slowly melting away...

He was afraid as his body pulsed with excitement: _She is here._ Control yourself, he thought, do not let her meddle you, concentrate, you are this doing for your own safety, there is no need to impress her. Stay calm- calm yourself you stupid heart! No, it is okay to be angry right now. Let that anger be your focus. _Fire!_

From the first pull of the trigger, he unleashed his fury, each shot a battlecry for Hammerfall. A tight, unerring rythm of clinking metal, booming discharges and the shattering of pots. It was music to his ears, composed by the engineers in the name of his country's defence, leaving spent casings, gunpowder smoke and smashed clay in its wake.

Schmidt hit all fifteen targets in under nine seconds.

He took no notice of the applause. Though he had an inkling from an early age, it was during his military training he discovered the only satisfaction he needed was his own, from deeds that met his own high standards. "Commander," he said, "Now that I have done your favour, I wish to inquire something in return."

"And what that might be?"

"How did you aquire this _gewehr_?"

"You think I'd give such information to a criminal?"

Schmidt frowned. It was clear the Commander wanted to do away with him as soon as possible, though given the political situation, it was understandable. "Then allow me to tell you this," he warned, "If you truly wish to prevent war, destroy it - the Martial Ministry does not take kindly to theft."

As he was led back into custody, his earlier suspicion was confirmed, as standing out of the crowd was Elsa, her braided hair resting on her front - tied with his mauve cravate. In fact, the rest of her was in the same colour, her lips, eye shadow and the outfit, an extravagant evening dress of velvet entwined with lace, its satin sheen tracing her curves as the frills on its sleeves and skirt flapped whimsically in the wind, like the wings of a flutterb-

For Heaven's sake! he thought. It was bad enough that he mispronounced that word when he held her last night, but for it to seep into his thinking too? She made a cute little wave at him, drawing curiosity from the spectators and annoyance from the Commander. Schmidt looked away - he was certain whatever there was between him and the Snow Queen, he was not worthy of her.

His heart rebelled against that notion by making him smile.


	6. Sister's sorrow

**Chapter 6**

"So much for an officer's privilege."

Schmidt sat quietly in the cell. As a captain, he expected somewhere that was at least comfortable enough for a good sleep; treat prisoners of war with kindness and you may win them over, so decreed the master strategists, though it was more likely, given the Commander's opinion, to maintain the illusion of him being a private. However, this was not what irritated him. It was its condition; the room was dilapidated, the air cold and stagnant as mould crept up the damp walls, possibly trying to escape the occasional squeaking rat as it left droppings on the floor, itself probably wanting to get away from the humans, who left their mark with urine.

He thought, how is this suppose to deter criminals from reoffending? The usual sort of denizen sent here would be used to living like this - the kind who have degenerated into a sorry mess of what humanity they had left, unable or unwilling to know wrong from right, danger from safety or even night from day. To him, they were the "zombies" of the West Orient old sailors spoke of. That opinion was reinforced with one example among the felons sitting opposite.

"Aren't you that prick from Hammerfall?" snarled one of the inmates, sentenced for murder. A boil managed to show through his oily, unshaven face as hollow eyes gazed back with an aimless hatred. His threadbare clothes were soiled in dirt and viscera, his hands ravaged with cuts and scabs as veins writhed all over them, as if the very lifeblood was desperate to leave his decaying soul. But what upset Schmidt the most was his wedding ring - this person must have experienced joy and love somewhere in his life. What could have made him forsake the very things that make existence worth living?

"Damn right it is!" sneered another cellmate, a highwayman who robbed from rich and poor alike. His thin body craved for opium, making him twitch and shiver. Only one eye on his vulture-face was calm, focused on Schmidt, looking at an excuse to vent his fustration. "They say the ice maiden's taken a fancy to him," he added, "but a pretty soldier like you ain't good enough. Now me, my banging'll leave her frozen stiff - after I've relieved her of all that underserved wealth!". Still, there was determination behind that eye, a glimpse of a better man living a better life, had he not taken a criminal's path.

"You shame glorious Hammerfall!" exclaimed the third prisoner, a vandal and fanatic of that nation. He was only a few years younger than Schmidt, but he had been convicted several times for disturbing the peace and damaging property. He gloated "To think a fellow republican, _a model citizen_ , would murder his father and destroy so much for some pampered aristocratic witch!". Schmidt studied the youth, but no matter how hard he looked he could not find any positive attribute, only small, snarky eyes on a chubby face and a hunched frame, shaped by an insular, hateful attitude of the world he felt ought to serve him.

"You just gonna sit there?" asked the highwayman. Schmidt maintained his silence, showing no emotion. The atmosphere was tense; he could not afford to think beyond his predicament lest the others decided to attack him. Suddenly the murderer walked up and grabbed him by the arms, squeezing his body up in the air. "Say something before I rip you apart!" he growled. Schmidt replied with a headbutt, sending the brute staggering and falling on his backside. As the murderer rubbed his head, he and the highwayman looked to Schmidt's lupine gaze and were astounded. For a moment, something in their minds sparked into logic: Perhaps it was unwise to pick a fight with him.

"I must warn you," he said in earnest, "I defeated five of the Queen's Guards before I surrendered, and each of them is worth ten men."

In any other time he would consider that statement amusing - a private in the Hammerfall army is worth that much. Behind his eyes he felt something unexpected: Hope. These criminals just might see the error of their ways. If the murderer could at least back down, Schmidt would consider it a major victory.

That hope was dashed by the vandal. "What's wrong?" he yelled to the cellmates, "He hits you once and now you're scared? This is your chance to do something amazing! Kill this traitor and you'll be better than the Arendelle Army!"

The other two stood and cracked their fists. The youth layed back with a smirk, and Schmidt saw his true face - the kind of person that filled him with anger. "He's right," shouted the highwayman, "You got lucky there, but now you're trapped in the cage with us!". Seeing there was no way to defuse the situation, Schmidt rolled up his sleeves and remarked

"I think you will find it is you who is trapped in here with me..."

Shortly afterwards he found himself in solitary confinement. However, this was a blessing - at least he could think of what was going on in peace. No doubt word would spread on his fight with the inmates, further demonising him. Then a thought appeared: Is this not how legends begin? Each tale of Ludwig's deeds would have a kernel of truth in them. Perhaps it was the one thing his son would surpass him now, not that it mattered.

"Hey there!"

Kristoff leaned casually against the bars in tailored regal attire and a warm smile. Schmidt had to comment on this clash of appearance and attitude.

"Those clothes do not fit you."

"Comes with being a royal. So how should I address you, Mr. Schmidt? Sir? Jagdhund Captain?"

"Schmidt will do fine, Sir."

"Then you can call me Kristoff. I may have a title but I'm still common as muck!"

Schmidt could understand Anna wanting to know more, but why would her husband be interested, especially since he almost inadvertantly killed her? "Are you here to scold me?" he asked.

"That's what I told the guards. The Commander's deemed you so dangerous he's put you on lockdown - even Elsa's not allowed to see you, though what you've done to those prisoners did you no favours."

He had to - never before had he encountered anyone so stubborn in their lust for a kill. Only when they begged him to stop, their faces awash in fear did he finally relent.

"Broken bones, missing teeth, dislocated limbs, and that poor kid, they say you gripped his face so hard it's left a permanent print! You've scarred him for life!"

"Good."

That caught Kristoff by surprise - he did not expect him to be proud of inflicting such violence.

"Believe me when I say I am a soldier, not a savage, but that "kid" is an agitator. He wound up the other two into attacking me and sat back, continuing to provoke them as I defended myself. To me, he was the worst of the three, because without him, the others would have stopped."

"Point taken." Kristoff conceded. Any other answer would have probably made him snap shut, preventing further information about him. Stilled annoyed, Schmidt asked

"So why are you here?"

"I'd like to know about your father."

Before the Red Morning he would have been delighted to regale about him. "After what the Commander told me," he replied, "Even I am unsure of what to say."

"No Schmidt, the father _you_ knew growing up."

As a soldier, he had been trained not to give any information to strangers, lest they be the enemy. He turned his eyes away, yet he could not help but feel that, somehow, this man could be trusted. He had heard about his personality before - anyone would if said person was a commoner who managed to marry a princess. Maybe it was precisely that: Under more fortunate circumstances, Kristoff's achievement would be the edge of the coin that was his own fantasy; the defining alliance of two nations, bound by Elsa, the Snow Queen of Arendelle, and Gerhard Schmidt, the Wolfhound of Hammerfall... What is the point? he thought. His priority was finding a means of escape and dwelling on dreams did not help. His sinking heart further exacerbated his inability to think. Kristoff looked to him in understanding.

"You don't have to talk if it hurts."

"Actually..."

He remembered what Ludwig told him when he was anxious: "If something comes along and troubles your mind, my son, you must face it, then defeat it, come to terms with it, even accept it should there be no other way, but whatever you do, never, ever bottle it up". To speak of him was the only action to stave off his despair. He straightened himself and cleared his throat.

"Early to rise, late to bed, teetotal, cooked three meals a day. The rest of it was spent at the forge. He worked like a machine - unfeeling, unrelenting, unwavering, but always ensured his products met his high standards. He also enforced them in our home. Everything was in order and free of clutter, and any deviation resulted in disciplinary. He treated everybody with the same level of respect, be it myself, a beggar or a minister."

Much like the descriptions, his delivery was in a utilitarian tone. Kristoff could only guess what kind of childhood Schmidt went through.

"Sounds like one hell of a father!"

"Far from it," he asserted, "A father knows his child's heart, as only the child knows his father's. The army taught me how to fight, but he taught me how to live. For that I owe him everything."

"How can you be so sure?"

There was a long pause. He wondered if he had hurt Schmidt as he hung his head - it suggested a bad memory. Kristoff remained patient for a response. Let him decide it's okay, he thought, and eventually he'll warm to you. He was rewarded as Schmidt took a deep breath.

"Once, I asked him... a personal question. Instead of answering as he usually would, he walked into his room and shut the door! I was so shocked and ashamed. It was the only time I saw him in pain, and all because I was curious."

Schmidt's pensive stature showed his sentiment toward that moment. before he continued however, his face shone in the kind of pride from creating a masterpiece.

"The morning after we had breakfast, but we did not speak. I apologised to him about what I said. Suddenly he broke into tears and hugged me! He told me it was okay, that I should be true to myself and not supress my wonder, and that no matter what others may say, I had become a man. He was so proud I too cried! That was the proof his love for me was absolute."

That, there was no doubt to Kristoff, but it did not get him closer as to what he could be hiding, as Anna suspected. As he pondered his next move, Schmidt added

"He then made a promise: If I surpassed him, he would tell me the answer. That is why I was so determined to be the best. But now..."

He need not say more. Kristoff understood, to lose the rock of one's life, to be denied such knowledge by tragedy could only be fustrating and depressing. He said "And so before you disappeared, you used the same determination to realise a dream: To meet Elsa. Seems you left quite the impression on her!"

"And that was my biggest mistake. I fell in love with a painting. I thought she was wiser than to risk all out war for me."

Kristoff laughed, making Schmidt irate. "What makes it so funny?" he asked.

"Wise? She isn't much older than you! She and Anna are as impulsive as each other, but what they don't tell you is that when Elsa wants something, she gets it herself. Suppose she didn't have her powers, the coronation goes smoothly and the Big Freeze never happened. Where would you be?"

Schmidt could not shake off the suspicion that he too wanted him to be with her, as nice as that sounded, but he decided to play along. "I would become a smithy." he answered.

"And you'd work with that same fervour to exceed your father?"

"Yes."

"That'd give Hammerfall something to shout about. Word would spread of a brilliant blacksmith with a mysterious past, the best in the world, only to be superceded by his equally focused son, who's also said to be quite handsome!"

"I would not consider myself to be so good-looking, but yes, I would succeed father."

"You'd think Elsa would pass that up? She wants the best, so she'd offer you to come over and work for her, but since you're Hammerfall through and through, you'd never pledge fealty to a royal."

"Yes."

"And so she'd make a state visit and see you in person."

"Yes!"

"And you'd still fall in love."

"Yes- _No!_ "

To Schmidt, his life had turned into a farce. Here was the pinnacle of Hammerfall's founding principles, the example to lead its citizens to bettering their lives, but now his heart was being tickled by a potential enemy. However, there was no mocking on Kristoff's face. In fact, his was one of appreciation. Whatever his intentions were, he was a most interesting human. As Schmidt studied him, Kristoff said

"You were born lonely."

That surprised him. The stories of him reading one's character appear to be true. His curiosity got the better of him as he asked

"What do you mean?"

"How you behave wasn't necessarily from your upbringing - you could be one of ten children and you'd still find it strange how everyone talks to themselves but not you, that they don't see the things you do, like how each part of a machine works, how each note in music affects the mood, or how you construct a ship whilst keeping costs down. You were brought into this world with a gift - a mind hungry for wisdom and understanding. But it comes with a cost: Such a powerful brain dominates the heart, the seat of emotion. As a result, you appear cold and unsociable to others, and when you do try to interact, you have no idea what to do. I'll bet you only react to people when they criticise you."

Schmidt was impressed. The only other person who was aware of his nature was Ludwig. He would not admit it, but he liked Kristoff. Hammerfall would make a soldier out of him, he thought. Suddenly it hit him - there could only be one reason why he would try to gain his trust.

"You are here on behalf on Anna."

Damn it! thought Kristoff. He should have known Schmidt was smart enough to figure it out. Defeated, he explained himself. "She says you're struggling against something inside. Would it be too much to ask what it is?"

This was the moment he waited for, to see if he had earned enough respect for Schmidt to reveal his true intentions. If he failed, he was afraid even his cuddling would not prevent Anna from further chasing him, and that was the last thing he wanted. To his astonishment, Schmidt agreed to tell him.

"She is correct Kristoff. My heart is ruled by my mind, but because of this, it feels oppressed, and it keeps wanting to break free, to indulge in emotion. If I were to let that happen, to let it overcome reason, it will become addictive, and like an alchoholic, I would resort to increasingly desperate measures to feed that addiction. It will only bring shame to my father and Hammerfall. I must admit: I did enjoy the altercation with the convicts. Surely you comprehend."

With this explaination, Kristoff was satisfied he had seen the machinations of Schmidt's thinking. "As a token of my thanks," he said, "have this."

Before he left, he handed him a small item wrapped in paper. Schmidt's curiosity piqued as inside was a block of chocolate. He knew of it, but such food was banned in Hammerfall, claiming it was a symptom of imperial decadence. He also heard it was what Elsa and Anna loved in equal measure, and judging by the elder sister's feelings toward him, concluded it was her who sent it.

He placed the confection in his mouth. At first, he did not see what the fuss was about. It was firm but there was only a hint of sugar. He almost dismissed when, slowly, it began to melt, revealing a rich, milky sweetness that was nothing like any dessert back home. Never before had he experienced such sensual delight from mere sustenance, taking him back to the garden, watching the Snow Queen soften as he held her arms, then to her bedroom, as she sprinkled her sugar on him. Hell! he thought; just this once he would allow his heart to run free and savour this moment.

Or at least he would had he not noticed something else. Written inside the wrapping was a note:

 _I heard you wanted to know where the rifle came from. It was recovered from the bandit raid on Anna's return to Arendelle._

Impossible! thought Schmidt. He fought to contain his worst feelings as two theories came to mind: The first, that the insubordinates had somehow obtained the secret weapons. If that was true, it seemed they had gained more power since the Red Morning. But it was more plausible than the second, that it was the jagdhunde who were behind the attack. He considered it absurd as he knew his former comrades were picked primarily for their dedication to loyalty, duty and justice - the Martial Ministry would never grant the army's most prized unit to those vindictive morons claiming to be the true children of Hammerfall.

He recalled Anna telling him about their promise to stand down upon his arrest. If they wanted him to die, why? Did they fear him, that he himself actually held enough influence over the citizens to prevent their vile desire from being fulfilled? However, to get to the root of his suspicion, he would have to return home, and that would mean certain death. He observed the cell, seeking any means of escaping it and the despair that began to creep into his body. Looking at the tiny window, he realised night was falling.

All he could do, even in the grip of anxiety, was to wait for sleep.

* * *

The chapel of the royal manor was no bigger than a community hall, and could comfortably fit up to fifty people. Though it was partly due to its size, the religious imagery that would generously adorn a church was sparse - House Arendelle always decreed that faith should be practised in a quiet, but dignified manner, to show that one did not need riches to attain enlightenment.

Anna sat in prayer. This place offered asylum to those in trouble, the few candles gave the room an intimate warmth to the eyes, but the image conflicted with the silence. She tried to convince herself that it was serene, only it felt more cold and uncaring, reminding her of that dreadful moment she fell into the lake, of her senses fading as she froze to within an inch of her life; the sound of oblivion. Or, perhaps, it was the calm before the storm, the tension that could break into war with Hammerfall.

She pondered, how will Elsa resolve this? The logical choice would be to simply hand over Schmidt, but Anna suspected, given the insubordinates' demands, he would not recieve a fair trial, if he was allowed one. She knew Elsa enough that, even though she would say it often to others, it would be difficult for her to let him go. Would she muster the courage (or, perish the thought, foolishness) to make a stand against Hammerfall's military might? The least Anna could do was support her no matter what life threw at them. In any case, she was confident Elsa would grow stronger as a result, unlike herself, for she felt that she was responsible for sealing Schmidt's fate.

Where could she go? Kristoff was in the cells getting to understand Schmidt further as he promised. Elsa was hosting a party with the upper crust of the royal states; she needed to uphold the image of a queen in complete control of the Hammerfall situation. Anna decided not to attend knowing, given her mood, she would be prone to making a mistake in formalities, ridiculing her sister and Arendelle as a whole.

There was one remaining outlet: the confession chamber. Though she was the only person in the room, Anna could at least prepare herself for that occasion. As she approached, she noticed the door of the priest's side was left open. Unusual, given the fact he always had it locked when going out, and he said he was spending the rest of the day at his house. Suddenly she felt her impulses tingle. Why she wanted to enter this side, she did not know, only the opportunity was there and she had to take it.

She stepped inside and closed the door. To her surprise, she felt more comfortable in this small, black space than in the openness of the chapel. For centuries people had admitted to the priests their deepest desires, twisted thoughts and heinous crimes stemming from the darkness that resides in everyone's hearts, safe in the knowledge their secrets remained unspoken. How could the clergy listen and even bless such insidious folks without their minds falling apart? She dared not think to be in such a position.

"Forgive me madame, for I have sinned."

Anna jumped out of her skin upon hearing the voice. Through the latticed window, there was a woman, sitting perfectly upright in a dark hooded robe. Her slim face appeared youthful, but upon closer inspection her thin lips were permanently ajar, and her dark brown eyes, etched in lines of middle-age, were almost lifeless; the hallmarks of a drug addict, and yet, there was an odd beauty in its sadness. Anna's own eyes widened upon recognition - it was the nun from the Hammerfall church. Whatever she went through in life, hers would be a most remarkable tale. "I'm sorry, but I'm not a priest." Anna said regretfully. "You can wait until tomorrow if you want-"

"Princess Anna please," begged the woman, "It is you I need to speak to."

Her recieved pronounciation was soft and reassuring, motherly even, yet it was tinged in distress. If she specifically wanted Anna, it must at least be of some importance. Besides, she could not simply refuse the lady's request. "I can't absolve your sins," she replied, "but I'll listen."

The woman bowed to her in gratitude before she explained her plight.

"My name is Juli. Many years ago, I was a teacher of the faith, and taught its values to children. I ensured their paths were to be good and honest, praised them when they behaved well, punished them if they strayed. Such was my fervour that some would consider me overzealous, but I practised what I preached, and Heaven expects no less from its disciples. When I heard about the Republic of Hammerfall's formation, I put it upon myself to spread the teachings. It filled me with excitement, that I would contribute to mentoring the first generation of this newborn nation. It was only a few years old on my arrival, and it was a ghost town, long abandoned by whoever governed it before, but I knew it would flower into a state that would match even Arendelle in power and wealth. However, there was one who made my blood boil: The newly-appointed Grand General was a demon, at once cunning, brutal, flippant and vindictive. How could the founding fathers let him take command of the Martial Ministry?"

Why would the Martial Ministry permit that ogre into their highest rank? Anna sensed that Juli was about to give some valuable information, hopefully something that could be used as leverage to help Elsa.

"He claimed to follow the faith, but war was his true master, and the way of war is the way of deception, which goes against the very virtue our religion was founded on: Truth. I wanted to oust him, and as the strategists of old said, to defeat the enemy, you must first know him, understand him. I would remove my habit, assume the guise of an admirer, meet him, win his trust and expose him for the villain he was."

"But Sister," asked Anna, "Doesn't that make you a hypocrite?"

"That I will not deny, but when something appears that you are utterly compelled to act on, the ends justify the means. I remember seeing him for the first time. It was Hammerfall's third anniversary, and the entire city threw a party. As I made my way through the revellers, I was surprised to see him standing apart and alone, staring at the moon. In fact, he appeared to be mourning. Why? My guess was he missed the savagery of battle. As I approached, I kept thinking to myself: Do not let your aim sway, do not let him in, for he is the devil, and he will use every measure to drag me to his level. I feigned shyness as I introduced myself to him. He returned the greeting with a cold stare. I must have took him by surprise, for a second later, he smiled and kissed my hand..."

Anna seized in revulsion - the thought of one so brutish as the General trying to be romantic was horrifying.

"I can see it in your eyes Madame. You know exactly how I felt when he did that. And yet, it seemed to reveal something inside me, this sensation of... fear? attraction? It was like finding a forbidden door, and it made me retreat! It was humiliating, to know I ran at the first sign of danger. But my faith would not let me concede. I was more determined than ever to complete my mission. I would not let Heaven down again. I met him again the day after and "apologised" for my fright. He accepted - of course he would, I was certain he would love me and leave me with a broken heart. Such was his ways with women as I was told back in the order, but then, I believed everything they told me..."

"As we began seeing each other more, I enquired about him, his life, his tastes, as much information as to create a scandal that would force him to step down. At first, he answered as a soldier would - clear, straightforward, without feeling. One of the few tactics that he was proud of was when, before executing one operation, he ordered some boulders be placed just under the surface of a river, providing a hidden escape route. You can imagine the look on his enemies' faces when he took flight! But over time, as I earned more of his confidence and understood him, he became relaxed and revealed more of his personal thoughts."

"I despised pretending to be sympathetic to him, but there was one image I could never shake off - him gazing at the moon the night we first met. I knew not to ask, but the curiosity grew stronger the more I knew him. In spite of my determination, even prayer to Heaven was not enough; I could take it no more and asked him about it. This action was the beginning of my fall from grace: When he explained the tragedy that befell him, it gave him the fuel to dedicate his life to the art of war, and to tread the path of vengeance. To him, the moon was the memento of what he had lost. He said this as he fought back his tears, and it was genuine, for I struggled to hold back mine."

"And your sympathy for him became real."

"Correct. He never told anybody that until then, because at that point he admitted his love for me. Do you know how it feels Madame, to realise you won someone's trust to the point they told the whole truth as you only lied to him? Such was the shame upon my shoulders that... You remember the strange sensation I had when I first saw him, the forbidden door I resisted to open? In that instant, he helped me open it, for on the other side of that door was my deepest desire, the reason why I became a teacher."

"You wanted your own children?"

"I could not decieve him anymore. I confessed my intentions to him. I thought he was going to kill me, and yet he took it calmly and gave me a choice: Stay silent and uphold my honour to the faith, or shed my habit and be with the man I now love. I chose the latter, and let me tell you Madame, we were at it like tigers that night!"

"I know the feeling, Sister!"

The two burst into giggles. It was a welcome respite, but it did not last long as the nun resumed her rigid posture, the brief joy vanished from her face, only to be replaced by the distress from her voice.

"And so I returned to the convent, ready to announce my resignation. They would understand, I thought, and that they would forgive me, perhaps even praise me for opening my heart to love. Instead I was greeted with looks I did not think was possible from my fellow followers - rejection, prejudice, murder. "You have some nerve to come here, blasphemous traitor!" they yelled, and before I could even comprehend what was happening, I was grabbed and felt a sharp pang in my arm. I tried to desperately escape, but whatever made that puncture, it slowly gets into your mind, to the point it was all I could think of as it seeped into my body, making it numb, and yet... comfortable. When I realised I was being sedated, I had not the strength to even open my eyes. All I could do was accept this euphoric abyss."

"I cannot recall much of what happened after, but it seemed like an eternity. Hell, I do not know which of it was real. Most of that time was spent drifting between the waking world and dreams- no, nightmares is more fitting. I was at the mercy of darkness, images and sounds never whole, only coming through in ripples and waves. Periods of emptiness followed by all kinds of pain, fingers pinching, pins pricking, blades cutting, hands twisting, warm blood on cold skin while my body layed lifeless surrounded by chanting throughout. But it was the burning that hurt the most; the initial sting, hearing my flesh sizzle and feeling my blood bubble as I was branded with crude shapes, and the anguish that lingered long after! And then it would begin all over again..."

"There was the rare occasion where I had a clear consciousness, being held in a small, shadowed cell, but not so much under the drug's influence. In the silence, I could feel my brothers and sisters watching me, mocking me, hating me. I remembered feeling the scars on my body, and discovering the seared shapes were symbols, perhaps characters. Sometime else I also figured they were linked to the chants during the nightmares. What they were, I do not know, only that they looked and sounded... _ancient_. The faith forbids suicide, but having been subject to such depravity, I contemplated it many times. Were it not for the life that was growing inside me, I would have bitten off my tongue and embraced death."

The unborn child, the glimmer of hope that inspired this woman to stay alive, to _survive_ , brought a tear to Anna's eyes. She prayed for the story to reach a happy ending, that the child too would live.

"And then came the moment everybody was waiting for. I resisted, anyone would, but by then I became dependant on the sedative - no longer was I able to control my body upon its presence. Oh madame, I would sell my soul to be free from its tyranny! In the numbness, there was a faint sense of touch as I was shackled naked onto a cold hard surface. The chanting began, only it was much louder, more focused, but drowning in their own reverberations, like a constant swarm of flies buzzing in your ears! All the while, as every fibre in my body felt immolated, suddenly I felt something cold and hard thrust into me, forcing, no, _ripping_ its way across my belly. And then... just before I passed out, I heard a different sound; crying. From from the corner of my eye I saw what kept me going: My baby, taken from me, drenched in blood."

Anna 's despair was filled to bursting point. She gripped her fingers through the gaps in the window to prevent herself from screaming, but it was not enough. As her mind was on the brink of cracking up, she felt Juli's hand. It was holding on to her soul, and she sensed a rallying call in those dark brown eyes, now alive and urging her to keep enduring.

"When I came round, the gash that contained my child had been crudely stitched together, and I found myself in a familiar place, only from the side I thought never I would be - the asylum of the feeble-minded. I always pitied the poor souls who ended up there, but now I was considered one of them, who was I to do so? However, the drug must have expanded my mind over the months - all the stories and strategies the General told me made so much more sense, and with an end to justify the means, to regain my child, I pledged myself to the art of war: I spoke to my fellow inmates, uncovered the wisdom they hid, earned their trust. Then I studied the guards, their patrol patterns, before concocting a plan to escape. All the while impersonating as a lunatic, so they would not be suspicious."

"And so the time came for my operation to begin. At midnight me and my "troops" struck, stunning the guards and taking their clothes. Disguised, we made our way to where my child was kept. I picked him up just as more guards turned up. My comrades held them off long enough to make my escape. I... still feel as if I had forsaken them, for I can never show my gratitude for their sacrifice."

"And your baby?"

"I clutched him as I ran outside. The night was caught in a blizzard. Such was its ferocity even the guards were afraid to give chase. As I struggled in freezing winds, I remember doubting my actions, that they have led me and the child to our demise. You know, Madame, to this day I swear it was- no, my resolve and maternal love gave me the warmth to carry on. Eventually I reached the General's residence. I left the baby and knocked the door before leaving. You must think; why did I not reunite with my beloved?"

Anna was quite sure she knew the answer. "It'd only become more dangerous for the both of you. Also, that's the first time I've heard of a breakout in Hammerfall. They must've swept that under the carpet to maintain its spotless image, and besides, the General must have garnered sympathy from raising a child alo-"

A thought stopped her from completing her contradiction. "Pardon me if I'm wrong Sister," she said, "but there's only been one Grand General, and he has no children. Are you... in the right frame of mind?"

"That is another incident the ministries want to remain forgotten: The General was also arrested for "defiling Heaven" and recieved a dishonourable discharge, his name and deeds wiped from Hammerfall's history. In his place now resides a brutish ape who cannot keep his army under control."

Anna was dumbfounded. She was certain the "brutish ape" was referring to the giant at the meeting. If so, who was this other General? She strained her memory for anything that could make the connection to this conundrum, all the while while continuing to listen.

"Since then, I have lived like a rat, hiding in the city's shadows among undesirables, watching my son from afar, seeing him grow into a righteous and intelligent gentleman. But he possesses something that fears him - his father's energy, the kind that could manifest into extreme passion or anger. And now, in the wake of the Red Morning, I fear for him, as I fear for all of us."

All the pieces were coming together. To Anna, it was the light she had to look into, even if it blinded her. She was about to ask one more question to confirm her suspicion, but the space opposite was vacant. Anna burst out of the chamber to see Juli running off. Here was a chance to help both Elsa and Schmidt, and she was adamant not to let it escape. She sprinted toward her and grabbed her arm, pulling her back with all the might she had. "You're Schmidt's mother aren't you?" she cried, "I beg of you, please stay! With your knowledge, you can help us prevent war with Hammerfall, and in return, Elsa can give you sanctuary and you can finally meet your son! Isn't that why you're here?"

"No."

The reply shook Anna to the core, her jaw and arms dropped. What kind of mother would refuse to do so after waiting for so long? Juli clasped her hands on Anna's arm so tightly it felt more like a sting. "Believe me when I say I want to, I really do," she answered, her voiced quivering and eyes streamed in tears, "but you must avoid him, for he is vulnerable."

"To what?"

"His feelings. If he is to experience anything so emotionally charged, it will be too much for him to bear." Her eyes widened into those of terror.

"And should that occur, Heaven deliver us from him."

Her last statement left Anna with a chill creeping down her spine. She wanted to chase after the nun as she darted away, but even the simple act of walking required much more effort than usual. Looking at where she was gripped, there was tiny spot of blood on her arm - she realised too late that the nun had pricked her with something, for her heart was beating slower and her limbs grew heavier by the second, yet her head felt as if it was floating high above.

She traipsed towards the nearest seat, using the remains of her volition to not fall over before collapsing into it. Even as she felt like a puppet with its strings cut, even when there was still much burden on her mind; the insubordinates' threats of conquest, Elsa's fascination with Schmidt, the warning from his mother, what felt like a roll of paper shoved under her blouse, all of it was wasting away. Right now, in this cosy abyss, all she could do was close her eyes and drift into a dream, one of being spirited away to some realm between realities in big strong arms...

She managed to open one eye on hearing another voice - Kristoff's. She saw his lips moving, but his words were in flux, fading in and out, it seemed he was asking if she was okay. She was, but not in the way she imagined.

Who would have thought a nightmare could be such bliss?


	7. The heart of a demon

**Chapter 7**

It had been a stressful evening for Elsa. The party she hosted was an invitation for the royal states to voice their opinions and advice on the relationship between Arendelle and Hammerfall. She hoped they could be convinced to open up dialogue with the republic, and ultimately lift their trade embargo. That would at least ease her own people's worries, perhaps even make the insubordinates think twice about their aspirations. The guests seemed to have other ideas.

"Hammerfall has a point, Your Highness. A little bird told me you haven't been yourself lately, that you've been charmed by that dangerous rogue behind the Red Morning, which of course is completely false since it was you who led him to his capture, bravo I say to that! But there is the possibiilty, and this is most unlikely I must add, of you... losing control of your magic. If that were to happen, and again I say that is a theoretical extreme, we may have to adapt our stance in such consequences..."

"My Lady, there are those among our circles who question your decision to aid Hammerfall in the first place - that is not my personal opinion I can assure you, but how their military has been acting as of late is cause for concern. If you are unsure they can keep their promise of remaining outside your borders, the Duke of Westleton will glady watch your back - if you accept his hand in marriage."

"Of course the Southern Isles would lend a hand, Your Majesty, but you must understand the best we can do is to wait until we are certain whose is the winning team. When we do, we simply apply pressure to the other side until an agreement is reached. That way we maintain peace and get a few bonuses for good measure! Though it would help if you would work a few favours for us. You could start by petitioning for the release of our beloved Prince Ha-"

She regretted throwing her drink at the representative's face for mentioning that scheming cad. Maybe.

The worst was yet to come - As the party came to a close, she recieved word Anna was found in the chapel barely conscious. She appeared to have been poisoned, but there was no sign of the associated agony or fever. On the contrary, she seemed quite happy in her near-comatose state, even raising the faintest smile upon seeing Elsa. The doctor's opinion was that she had been injected with an opiate substance. If it was an assassination attempt, whoever was responsible could not be so incompetent as to use a non-lethal dose. If they wanted to undermine the queen, why was Anna not kidnapped?

All these events were piling up on her mind. She sat in her bed, still wearing her mauve dress and makeup. The room was dark, the only light came through the window from the moon, its faint glow scored the floor and across the sheets, bringing a blue shine to the glass in her hand. The wine was red, but now its hue was of dark purple; of blood without passion. She drank more than she ought to, but her anguish still loitered in her hazy state. She poured herself another glass and mumbled as it was the last in the bottle. She could call a servant to fetch another, but at such a late hour she considered it unfair and decided to get it herself.

Elsa stepped out of her room and viewed the length of the landing, still carrying the glass. As a child, she and Anna would sneak out at night and play around with her powers, down to remembering which of the floorboards creaked under their feet so as to avoid unwanted attention. As she began her walk, she thought it strange that, though she knew exactly how many steps it took from here to the hall, it seemed to take longer than usual to get there. She took a sip of the wine, its full-bodied flavour accompanied with hints of mellow black cherry, sharp raspberry, with a dash of ginger and spice. As she reached the stairs, a smile formed on her face as the sweet notes gradually morphed into gentle melodies, in time with her footsteps.

An icy slope formed beneath her feet as she descended with a glissando. Next, a major second to set the mood as she spun round the hall, conjuring shapeless sculptures at random places. She then hit the dourness of her predicament with a minor third, icicles sprouting from the ceiling. It was quite the relief venting her emotions, though some sorrow remained, and thus she began her song proper, body swaying to an adagio pace. Soon Elsa became absorbed in her heart as the worries began to fade into the shadows of her mind and the music. She continued to dance the night away in a wave of feelings, a minor sixth here, a dominant seventh there, leaving soft snow and crystals in her wake when she noticed from a reflection that her hair, still braided, had a pin out of place. She tried to straighten it with a flick of her hand, but it remained defiantly raised. Nobody will notice, she thought.

There was something odd about that reflection. She realised from the background she was in the garden, the place where she first met the boy soldier with the wolf eyes. What was his name again? It did not matter, she knew who he was, and she was certain he was thinking of her too. Church bells accompanied the major lift as she imagined how romantic it would be to marry him here, gliding through the frosted aisle that sparkled before her.

Why did she have to be queen? If not for such responsibility, she would have eloped with him already. Reality came rushing though as her feelings clouded her thoughts, the surrounding vision a blurring whirl and her footing unstable. Elsa was determined not to tumble, but the music was increasingly discordant, mingling with her fustration, a storm pounding her head. Suddenly she slipped up in a minor fall, her eye still on the drink as she desperately twirled the glass to contain the drink, to the right, then upside down, then left, and-

The song ended abruptly as she landed with a bump. She dared not to look at what had to be an empty glass now, yet something was amiss in a situation like this; there was no wet sensation on her hands. To her amazement, it lay sideways, yet the wine was still inside - she must have froze it just before she hit the ground. With a tap, she unfreezed it and rewarded herself with another sip. As she got to her feet, somebody stood in front. Elsa was both hoping and fearful - was she going crazy, or was that the Wolfhound standing there? Her sight regained focus, but disappointment followed as it turned out to be a guard.

"My Lady, may I ask what you're doing out here?"

"Where am I?"

"Outside the cellar."

That's convenient, she thought. She straightened herself, but only because she did not want to set a bad example to the guard, who remained upright.

"I'm going to get a bottle."

"Come again?"

"This is the wine cellar, is it not?"

"No Madame, these are the holding cellars."

Her sorrow manifested in a deep sigh. If there was any comfort to be had, she would have him guide the way.

"In that case..."

Her face brightened as another idea popped up; here was something that could truly wash her worries away.

"...I'm going to see Gerhard."

"Negative," the guard asserted, "The Commander forbids contact with him unless absolutely necessary. We fear you're getting too close to him, which he will use to his advantage, and besides, we can't afford to add more fuel to a potential-"

He was interrupted by an ominous sensation from the floor. He tried to move, but the ice had already encased his feet, crackling and hissing as it slowly surrounded his body. He was shivering, not from the cold, but from the look on Elsa's face, her eyes keened with malice as she stared into his soul. A smirk appeared on her lips as spikes grew into the frigid casket, pushing deeper into his skin almost to the point of stabbing. "You may pass!" he cried, "I beg of you, don't kill me!"

Her face exploded in elation as the frozen tomb vanished in a puff of dust. She thanked him and pecked his cheek as she made her way into the cells. The other guards, having witnessed what happened, did not intervene. "And boys," she ordered with a wink, "If anyone asks, I was never here!"

As she tipsily walked on, Elsa felt a hunch take form, one that seemed to be watching her from behind, like the few convicts who were still awake. One of them spoke in a gloomy tone, something about a demon ahead, and that she should turn back before it was too late. Somewhere during the little dance, her subconscience made a connection to everything she knew about Schmidt. What it was specifically, she did not know, but it made her squirm. She concentrated to keep it from changing her mind as she approached the deepest, darkest end of the prison.

The hunch grew more prevalent the closer she got to Schmidt's cell. The few lamps that lined the thin passage appeared more like mystical seals that shone stronger the further she went, and the single one on the end wall now seemed more like that of a lighthouse, a signal that warned her to stay away to the point it made her pause just before her destination. She knew this was an effect from the drink, and this would probably be the last time she would see him, so why turn back now? It was abnormal and abhorrent this fear was resolute in pulling her away as she grasped a bar in desperation. If she wanted it so bad she would have to pull out all the stops; she took a gulp of the wine and yanked herself into his view.

To her astonishment, Elsa's phobia ceased to be upon seeing Schmidt. He was sleeping soundly under his tunic. The sight of him at peace lifted her heart, but she was not satisfied with simply watching him. A gentle call ought to rouse him.

"Wakey wakey Wolfhound..."

Schmidt moved about slightly, grumbling, but it was the sort of grumbling one makes in a gorgeous dream, no doubt one that featured his muse.

"Your Majesty..."

"You know you shouldn't call me that, Mr. Citizen!"

"But you deserve it..."

How sweet! Elsa thought. She summoned a snowball, then tossed it at him. He crushed it the moment it landed and sprung from the bed into a fighting stance, holding his tunic like a shield. His steeled look turned dumbfounded in seconds upon seeing the wet patch and the Snow Queen's presence.

"Your Majesty!? What are you-"

Seeing Elsa titter with such innocence almost put a smile on his face, but when he saw the glass, he resumed his usual earnest self.

"Are you drinking to forget?"

"Or sleep. Can do neither."

Not that she wanted to. The tee-shirt he wore fit snugly, showcasing slim, powerful arms and a perfectly chiseled torso. To her, he was a classical statue given life, and being so rigid, needed something to make him relax. She offered the glass to him. He took it, only for him to place it on the floor and out of her reach.

"I do not drink, Madame."

This however did not deter her. Far from it. If she touched his heart once, she was certain to do it again. "I thought you'd appreciate the company." she said, leaning forward and resting her arms on the bars, the low cut of her dress pushing up her bosom as she adjusted her position. Schmidt remained stoic against her flirting.

"I am sure your parents would approve of your behaviour."

"Mother would."

"And how would you know that?"

"From her diary."

His unyielding stance was betrayed by the slightest furrow of his brow. This pleased Elsa as she continued to fidget her body about. "She had a thing for your father, the unsung legend of the south, and I know of the duel between him and my father. Do you know what she wrote on that day? If she'd met Ludwig first she would've married him instead! From how I see it, she would be so proud if her daughter could achieve the dream she couldn't have."

Schmidt could not believe she was stooping this low to try and make him defect. "How romantic," he said dryly, "I am sure Hammerfall would be convinced that you want to seduce me with good intentions."

"Do you want me to?"

She watched in glee as he hesitated, knowing it would be difficult for him to discount the thought as he fought to supress his smile.

"You're so cute when you try to keep a straight face!"

His movements were increasingly awkward, and it was clear he was unable to control his expression when he turned his back.

"Admit it Gerhard, you like it when I tease you! And don't think I haven't noticed you got yourself, how should I say this... more than a stiff upper lip?"

Though this gave her much pleasure, she could feel fustration beginning within. Why was he so reluctant to show his heart now? Perhaps an explanation would help him open up a little more.

"I get it, you adore me. Hell, you worship me, but I'm no goddess. Even with everything I have, I'm still only human. Do you know how much it weighs on you, having so much power, and that making the slightest mistake could turn the world against you? A person can only take it for so long before it drives him insane. I drank to release some of that pressure, and seeing you helped it more! Why won't you do the same? Just release you inhibitions and-"

 _"NO!"_

His shout stunned her into sobriety as it echoed through the cells, followed by the murmurs of convicts and the guards rushing in. "What's wrong, Your Highness?" asked one of them. Elsa simply shooed them away, telling them she had it under control. When they insisted on bringing her back to her room, she thrust her hands in their direction, frigid flechettes flew past within inches from their faces. Slowly they returned to their posts. Schmidt was still facing away from her, but she could see his attitude was of scorn and regret.

"That was rash of me to react the way I did, Your Highness, but your provocation was wholly unnecessary. Allow me to explain: As you know, Hammerfall is a meritocracy, that is, one's position in society should stem not from his appearance or his family name, but from the quality of his character and ability. This does not mean "lesser" people, most who are happy to live simple lives, are to be treated like dirt, for the engineer recognises that, though he has the intelligence to design the machine, he still needs men to construct and operate it, so his innovation is the gift that provides money and a livelyhood, and in turn they support him in appreciation."

"I remember when the trade embargo was announced, though being a child then, I did not fully understood it. It was so exciting to see all these people from the royal states coming to our great city, but father was not so enthusiastic. As time went by, I began to see the situation as he saw it. Most were willing to earn their place in our society, but as more and more entered, it was getting harder to weed out those who... viewed the philosophy through a skewed lens. In their warped thinking, they considered the extent of their emotion just as, if not more important than reason and understanding. Before long, these ruffians formed their own communities within the industrial district, and rather than try to integrate with the rest of our citizens, instead chose to segregate themselves, where they and their freeloading minions could practise their own heresy."

"As these wooden shanties spread out, you may ask, how was this allowed to happen? If I knew I would tell you, although at the academy, I overheard gossip that some of the ministers took pity on them, saying it was our fault for not catering to their needs. Needs? As in the need to threaten citizens with murder if they did not part with their hard-earned money? The need to use that money on their "ventures", such as brothels, gambling houses and drug dens!? I bet Anna was not shown that face during her visit even after the Red Morning. Worse still, those same ministers cried again, that it was our negligence that caused it! How can Hammerfall continue like this? With morons in government, rising crime, and now, if what I hear is true, the insubordinates taking control!? _It makes me so-_ "

Schmidt managed to stop himself as he took a few deep breaths. "I apologise Madame. I was hoping you not to witness that side of me."

"Don't." Elsa replied, "You've just proven yourself to be more human than most. It's rare to see someone with such moral integrity and passion for life. You are more noble than any prince I've met, and you bet I'd give it my all to win you over, circumstances be damned!"

She had to admit there was no hope of the two getting together. In that moment, she felt connected to him with the same sense of disatisfaction. "If anything, this is my fault. I got drunk on happiness when you first held me, and I just wanted to make the most of it while you're here. If it's any consolation, accept this as my apology: A kiss."

"I cannot, Madame."

"Seriously?"

"In all earnesty."

She was unsure what to say next, but it did not matter. If he was so obstinate that he would not accept an apology, why should he deserve her sympathy? She began to walk away in anger, setting herself on an unerring path, much like Schmidt's- no, not like him, she had to disregard him completely, and nothing he could say would make her think otherwise.

"Elsa..."

It was the first time he addressed her by name, and his tone was equally personal, vulnerable even. It's just a distraction, she thought, but the feeling was hard to shake off. She shut her eyes and continued to walk, determined to keep him out of her mind. So long as she maintained her vigil, she would free herself from her urges and trust only her mind, something even Hammerfall would be proud of.

She could not believe it when she opened them. She was certain she reached the end of the passage, so what was she doing back at the deep end facing Schmidt? She was annoyed at herself for straying from the road she just started, but she supposed he should be permitted the courtesy of whatever would be his final statement. He held onto the bars, hair covering his eyes as he hung his head.

"Do you want to know the true reason why I wanted to see you?"

Elsa's anger began to wane as curiosity stirred within. If it was not from simple admiration for her or loyalty to his father, what could it be? "I must warn you," he added, "As soon as it is revealed, you, those you love, and all Arendelle will be in grave danger."

"Tell me."

He did not expect her to respond without any consideration. After a few seconds he composed himself.

"Before I do, I need you to ensure this is strictly between you and me."

No sooner than he said, a wall of black ice blocked the passage, so not even light could escape. He extended his arm, a subtle smile formed as he caressed her hair, and as he finished, his fingertips brushed her cheek. Elsa wanted to hate him for that, but she was unable to resist the warmth kindling her, and bit her tongue to stop herself from giggling. Schmidt took a few more moments before he readied himself. He clasped his hands and closed his eyes. He appeared to be praying, but he stayed that way too long. It was if he was a child who committed some misdeed and was fearful of punishment following his confession. Elsa held his hands, and they were trembling as she spoke in empathy.

"Gerhard, look at me. You're ashamed because your secret is nothing compared to my burden, but now I think of it we aren't so different; I lost my parents and you've lost your father. I know what you're going through, because I was there four years ago. Whatever this means to you, I promise, your secret's safe with me. Please, for your sake and mine, just this once, open your heart. _Let it go_."

Elsa felt his hands pulsing as he opened them slowly, revealing what she thought was a tiny piece of amber inside, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not focus on it. It was if it lacked substance, that it was ethereal, radiating light more warming than burnished gold. As he opened up fully, so did Elsa's eyes, first in disbelief, then in awe at the realisation of what she was witnessing as the object shone bigger and brighter, her own hands dripping sweat as blood flowed hot through her body, for she felt as naked as the revelation before her:

 _Gerhard Schmidt can summon fire._

She produced a few snowflakes, and sure enough, they twinkled wet in the flame's presence before falling as raindrops. However, her marvel was knocked by a thought; if his power matched hers...

"Were you behind the Red Morning?"

He shook his head, expecting her to ask that. "Madame, when it transpired it was you who unleashed the Big Freeze, it strengthened my resolve never to lose myself as you did."

"Did Ludwig know?"

"He was the only one."

It was easy to see why he became a smithy. For him to help his son control his magic so well, she would love to have praised him personally. Here stood someone who rose to prominence from humble beginnings thanks to an unyielding conviction to man as the heroic ideal, and to be with her should be his reward. She imagined their celebration, a dance of fire and ice that would culminate in a symbol of both Heaven's splendour and mankind's quest to achieve it...

She stirred her hands around the flame, her cold air mingling with his heat and spinning it into a sphere. Schmidt only began to admire its flawless dimensions when faint sparks formed in its surrounding space, dancing to Elsa's fingers, her movements swift and precise like the brushstrokes of an artist. In seconds hundreds of tiny droplets appeared, swirling at different speeds but in the same direction. Some merged to form globules as they too rotated in harmony. It looked like chaos, but within it were patterns he had seen before. Before he knew it, he was in utter thrall. In combining their magic, Elsa created a model solar system, the liquid marbles her planets orbiting his sun in a mist of diamond dust; they were holding stars in their hands.

His was the face of enlightenment, shining beautifully against the darkness, eyes softened and glistening with tears on the edge, mouth open. He was caught upon looking to Elsa as she held his fate with a gaze, her eyes sparkled with astral reflections and longing. This is it, she thought, casting caution aside as her lips inched closer to his. She could hear his soul thumping harder and harder at his invisible barrier. She had to open it for him, so they could finally embrace the almighty moment, when two become one...

Schmidt snatched himself away just as the guards busted through the ice wall, plunging the cell into shadow, the now frozen stars silently shattered as they hit the floor. "Your Highness!" growled the Commander as he stepped in, "Must you insist in tempting danger for this scoundrel?". Flustered, Elsa hugged him in response. "Thank goodness you're here!" she blurted, "I can't believe I was about to be seduced by that villain!". Unconvinced, he asked Schmidt

"Just what gives you the right to defile our queen?"

Schmidt was calm in his answer. "She is drunk, Commander, and in her state, would you rather discover the consequences if I were to resist her advances?"

He has a point, thought the Commander, though he would never forgive him in making a fool of her. "You should be grateful we're obliged to hand you back to Hammerfall alive."

As Elsa was escorted away, her last look to Schmidt was of remorse. As he pondered on how to solve his situation, the glass held an air of allure he had not noticed before. Too late did he realise what it was as he handled it in reverence, for its crystal shine, the deep red wine, and the lipstick stain that was left behind.


	8. One last defiance

**Chapter 8**

Anna woke up.

Or at least her mind did. All she could do at that moment was open her eyes, which were as limp as the rest of her body. One thing was certain - she never wanted to experience the drug again, though she now understood how an addict would crave it, and the notion she herself could become one sickened her.

She found herself in her bedroom. Looking around, she saw Kristoff in a chair. It appeared he was watching over her, but had fallen asleep himself. To think he was always the one to wake her in the morning - she was notorious for getting up late, Anna thought it delightful she would rouse him from his slumber with a kiss. Dragging her drowsy frame off the bed, she shuffled towards him, held his face and placed her mouth in his.

He was cold and still.

Anna recoiled. The sheer horror choked her scream as she fell onto her backside. Before she could comprehend what happened to him, her senses were in a frenzy over an entity; an odour that made her sputter, heat crept onto her skin, seeping into the room and obscuring her vision. By the time she realised it was smoke, she heard its source growing fierce. How could this have happened? And where was Elsa?

Anna crawled to the door, her hand burning from the metal knob as she opened it. Fumes smothered the ceiling of the landing, glowing red in a noise of crackling and burning. She caught a glimpse of her sister running downstairs; why was she not using her magic to stop this? Anna gave chase, stumbling and coughing as she scrambled to escape the deadly blanket descending from above, but she tumbled down the stairs and hit the floor hard. Even in such pain, Anna's concern for Elsa became a rush, getting to her feet and running outside. But nothing prepared for what she saw next.

Arendelle was in flames. It was Inferno in every sense of the word, a salvo of blazing autumn embers flying under a starless sky, ravaging trees and buildings as they hopelessly crumbled in a turbulent wind that dried Anna's throat, while folk howled as they fled. Elsa's hair shone as she traveled in the opposite direction of the people, with Anna following suit and calling her, but she had to wade against the stream of hysteria, losing sight of her sister. As the crowd slowly dispersed, there were charred remains of those who were unable to escape, the only feature on their blackened faces was terror. It was becoming more difficult to move through the ash and the stifling heat, but Anna was determined; nothing would stop her saving her sister.

Again she cried her name, and finally there was a response. Using Elsa's voice as a beacon, Anna reached her, but she was trapped in rubble. She was using her powers to dowse the debris, but they smouldered momentarily before setting alight again. Anna tried to remove it herself, but the embers were too hot to handle. "You've got to keep going!" she yelled to both Elsa and herself, only there was no answer as they on looked elsewhere in dread.

Out of the flames, a shadowy figure walked towards the pair, the distorting heatwaves made it hard to see who it was. As it drew near, Anna saw the dark grey eyes staring into her in furious malice. However, she would not allow herself to be held by his gaze again, and charged with a burning soul. "I've had enough of you bastard!" she screamed, lashing her fists at him, even landing one on his face, but it was ineffective as he gripped her arms. Still she wrestled with the demon even as the world collapsed around them, and as they fell towards Hell, the last thing she heard was him yelling

"Damn it Anna wake up!"

She was astounded to see Kristoff above her with a bloodied nose. "Thank Heaven!" he said, "I thought you were posessed!". With the dream still tangible however, him being alive was only partially reassuring, for there was a far more pressing matter; she bolted out of bed, wiping away the cold sweat of fear as she made her way to the master bedroom. The guards standing outside had no time to react as she barged through them and entered.

Elsa was lying in bed face down, a reddish brown stain trailed on the sheet from her head.

Anna's despair was released in a blood-curdling scream, but in less than a second was seized by a sudden chill - the room froze in a flash, covering her with it. She was bewildered to see Elsa looking back with the same expression, and it was some moments later before her mind finally connected to reality. The two were overjoyed to know they were alive and well, the ice shattered as the sisters ran into each other's arms. "I'm so sorry Elsa!" Anna cried in tears of joy, "I thought you- you were-".

There was no need for an apology as Elsa sat her on the bed, and replied with the purest smile. "I was worried sick when I saw you in that awful state! What happened?"

"I'd like to know too!" said Kristoff, holding his nose to stop it bleeding.

Anna tried to explain her nightmare, but was still shaken by it, and spoke erratically, making her hard to understand. Elsa was concerned that she mentioned fire, and coupled with her encounters with Schmidt, was the possibility that somewhere beneath Anna's conscience, she too was aware of his power. She was even more perplexed when Anna suddenly burst into laughter. "Forgive me," she said, "When I came in, that stain from your mouth, it looked like blood!". Elsa discovered why as she looked in the mirror; her lipstick had smudged all over her face and the bedsheet. She too had to giggle at how ridiculous it was, and came up with an idea to help calm her sister's nerves.

"Anna, can you help me remove my makeup? I don't think I can hold my face when it looks this stupid!".

The three sat together. She listened to Anna and Kristoff's accounts of the evening. Both mentioned Schmidt's vulnerablility to feeling, but with the discovery of his mother in Arendelle, and the harrowing ordeal she went through, Elsa was unsettled; she remembered hearing that one either had magic at birth or was cursed with it. As she pondered which case it was for Schmidt, she noticed Anna had stopped wiping her face, feeling her blouse in panic.

"Looking for this?" asked Kristoff, producing a sheet of paper. Anna sighed with relief to see he kept it safe while she was under. None of them noticed the Commander also entered the room. "So Hammerfall did leave a message!" he said. Elsa did not hide her annoyance - of course he would be eavesdropping on them after the commotion. "My Lady, how many times do I have to tell you-"

"I know, Commander."

Elsa inspected the paper. With the symbol of Hammerfall embossed in the corner, this was a letter reserved only for special occasions or people, unusual in that there was nothing written on it. This would make sense were it a hostile response to a demand, but Elsa knew every one she sent as queen was answered properly. What could possibly be the meaning of this?

She recalled tales of messengers having to keep their information secret; one such method was invisible ink. She held the sheet to a lamp, hoping the heat might reveal whatever was hidden, while looking for markings made by the pressure of a quill. But after minutes, it remained blank. Fustrated, she flung it across the room and sank into the bed. Stare into the abyss long enough it, she was told as a child, and it will stare back at you, yet as she peered into the shadows where the paper disappeared, she was certain the faint specks emanating from the darkness were a hallucination; the remains of her hopes, beckoning her to reach out and grab them - though it was puzzling how she imagined they were green.

"What's that?" asked Anna.

"What's what?"

"You see it too?" said Kristoff.

It dawned on her they noticed it as well, which meant one thing: What she saw was not an illusion. The optimism surging inside made her spring from the bed and flew past the others as they frantically approached the sheet. Elsa could barely contain her energy as she held the letter, its glowing message - written hastily with a brush, now revealed to her. "I should've known!" Kristoff chuckled, "There are some mushrooms that absorb light during the day, then give it off at night. It seems Hammerfall's found a way to extract the chemical and make it themselves!". Elsa composed herself before she read it to them:

 _Your Majesty,_

 _If you are reading this, give my thanks to Sister Juli, and that there may yet be hope for both Arendelle and Hammerfall. You must understand what I did was in the best interests of our security, and that I never wished for the current situation to happen. I am a spy in service of the Martial Ministry, among the very best, and like my fellow citizens, wished to use my skills for the greater good of mankind._

 _You_ _know by now what happened to Ludwig Schmidt, and at the time I thought his fall was just. My first assignment was to befriend him, watch over him and his son - the government feared he would seek revenge and may use Gerhard to aid him. In fact, agents from the royal states - I could smell those a mile away, also had a vested interest. Yet during those years, there was nothing to indicate any intention of vengeance; his only concern was raising his son, who was every bit the father - especially his determination and love for life. I thought it odd that as Gerhard grew up, my orders were becoming more focused on him, but I followed without question, and as I expected, there was nothing to raise suspicion._

 _In the wake of the Big Freeze, I was given a new assignment: To spy on your land and relay all information I could gather - finances, supplies, military strength, persons of interest and what made them tick. This was to ensure you were holding up your end of the agreement, and that if you had any intention of betraying it, we had the knowledge to stop you. Such was my dedication that I never asked what was happening back home, lest it risked my exposure._

 _What I witnessed on returning home stole my breath. The industrial district is still in ruins, plagued with gangs who extort honest folk of their earnings for "protection" from rival factions, while their leaders reside in affluent houses granted by crooks in the ministries. Yes, there is corruption within the government - such is inevitable in any, but rarely does it run this rampant, where the debate of an idea is not resolved in the main hall where the public can spectate, but in the backrooms through "favours" with friends in certain places._

 _Worse still, the council of the faith refuses to act on this. Yes, they denounce what is going on, yet claim they cannot interefere with Heaven's test of loyalty. Meanwhile, the church is crammed with citizens fearful for their lives. Those brave enough to stand against this blatant abuse of power, the engineers, are either "disciplined" into submission or disappear altogether. Despite my skills, I do not know what became of the latter._

 _I would have remained loyal to Hammerfall in spite of it all, save for one detail: The vast fields that once grew food for our city, that could feed the world? In four years, nothing,_ _nothing_ _was done about them. They were simply left to fallow in the elements - the only ploughing came from daily artillery practice. That was the straw that broke the camel's back, the knowledge that the insubordinates have the keys to Hammerfall, but my instincts tell me they are being orchestrated from the shadows by something more sinister; whoever that is has every intention to attack Arendelle._

 _In writing to you, I have committed treason. Do not try to save me, for my time will have come as you read this. I have only one request Your Majesty: the only stumbling block to this abhorrent plan is the one whom the citizens look up to. In the name of Heaven, do what you can to keep Schmidt alive, for if he dies, they will hold you responsible, and all Hammerfall will cry for war._

 _With sincerest apologies, Thomas Holstein._

The silence was deafening as they looked to each other, at a loss for words, not just that the one representative who they befriended had spied on them, but also in being so good the Arendelle army did not suspect him in the slightest. But to Elsa, the letter was what she needed to justify her desires, her heart aflutter as she envisioned ending the crisis not with the full force of winter, but with truth and love. A resolution fit for a fairy tale! she thought, rubbing her hands together and feeling ice grit turn into virgin snow falling through her fingers.

She was about to exclaim her joy when she noticed the others were horrified. The moment of confusion gave way to a realisation that sparked in the back of her neck, petrifying her as it crept upwards into her mind until it was unavoidable, made worse by the vision of the letter, now reduced to a pile of fibres.

She huddled into a corner, feeling herself regress back to the cloistered child frightened of her powers and the years of solitude she despised, but now she wanted to be alone, that she believed herself worthless as her body was slowly cocooned in ice. A fitting punishment, she thought, that this was her way of proving her honour and determination. Forgive me, she wanted to say as she felt Anna's small, tight grip of undying family love, but it would have to take more to convince her out of self-imposed imprisonment. Kristoff's big, firm hold could be felt with the warmth of open friendship, yet still it was not enough; it was a third, gentle hand that piqued her curiosity, not quite believing it to be of the only other person in the room, and to her surprise, it was the Commander looking to her in remorse. Even his voice was less coarse than usual.

"I owe you an apology, Your Majesty. As Mr. Holstein wrote, agents from all over the royal states were sent to watch over Hammerfall when Ludwig arrived. If there's one thing the republic has that's better than ours, it's their security, and for twenty-six years, we could never access their secrets. Such was their zeal that any royal spy who got caught was executed; only those of Arendelle were returned alive. Turned out that was Ludwig repaying your father's honour of letting him pass. For this, he never mocked Hammerfall again."

"Looking back now, though he never admitted it, I think your father grew to admire Ludwig - he was unusually quiet when news of his downfall reached him, and he would've wanted to reconcile their differences, but you know these circles Madame, him seeking dialogue with a disgraced enemy would have the aristocracy ridicule him. You too should be aware of this."

What was more painful was that it was true. She allowed the rumours to spread in hoping her people would garner their support, to turn the agreement with Hammerfall into an alliance. All she made instead was as a political mess, and imagined her parents looking down in shame. "So what should I do?" she asked.

The Commander stood up, back to his usual blunt self. "What do you think? Will you be the pretender wallowing in self-pity and allow these events to simply happen, or will you do what you think is right for us and make a stand against it, especially with what we now know? Be a queen and give the order!"

It was the motivation Elsa needed, breaking out of the ice as she rose to her feet. Though her height just reached the Commander's shoulders, the conviction she now had made her clean face more beautiful as he, Anna and Kristoff looked up to her.

"We'll hold Gerhard. Tell Hammerfall we won't give him in unless the trial takes place here. When he explains why he wanted to see me, the citizens will be convinced of his innocence, and they will vye for peace, forcing the insubordinates - and whoever controls them - to stand down."

Ultimately, her winning move would be to allow Schmidt the confidence to reveal his power to the world, and with the two standing side by side, even the royal states would be too terrified to attack. "Shall I tell him of this?" asked the Commander.

"No. Let him sleep."

Anna was confounded on hearing this. "Elsa, he needs to know now! You can't just-"

"Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?"

Anna could never pass up the opportunity to spend the night together with her sister if it could make her forget about the nightmare. "I'm sorry!" she told Kristoff. He simply smiled in response; in a time like this, they needed all the happiness they could get.

After the men left, the sisters lay in bed, recalling memories from their childhood, of growing up, the Big Freeze and up to their meetings with Schmidt, though Elsa kept her promise not to speak of his magic. "But seriously," said Anna, "If he loves you, he'll understand your plan."

"It's too risky." Elsa replied. "He's still... emotionally charged."

"Did you kiss him!?"

Elsa looked to her in guilt as she explained what happened in the cells. "I was so damn close! Just a second more and I'd have won him over!". Thinking back to Sister Juli's warning, Anna now understood why Schmidt must not be contacted until the morning. "We should sleep on it too." she said, and Elsa agreed.

Just as Anna was about to drift back into slumber, Elsa suddenly hugged her in desperation, pressing their cheeks together. "I'm doing the right thing, aren't I?" she pleaded. It was sad to think the Snow Queen now sought advice from the sister who could not begin to seek any option in solving this grave conundrum. All she could give was her reassurance.

"You know I can't answer that, but what I can say is that no matter what happens, I'll always be by your side, because I love you, and I'll do anything to make you happy!"

"Thank you." Elsa whispered. To her, Anna was the proof that hope springs eternal as she felt it being absorbed into her heart. She held her more, letting her feelings lead on as she envision Schmidt in her arms instead.

"Can you let go now?" Anna asked.

"Why?"

 _"You're f-freezing m-m-me!"_


	9. Leviathan

**Chapter 9**

"Urgent message Your Majesty!"

The butler's yell jerked Elsa out of her sleep. The incessant knocking at the door that followed made it all the more irritating, especially as Anna was blissfully slumbering and drooling on the bed. Sunrise had barely lit the curtains - had it been only a few minutes more, the eventual brightness would have made her awakening pleasant. The knocking continued as Elsa tried to rouse herself. "What is it?" she asked.

"Your Majesty, Schmidt has escaped!"

Anna bolted upwards hearing that. "How!?" she asked.

"It appears he unlocked the cell door and-"

Elsa and Anna burst out of the bedroom, slamming the butler aside as they raced towards the prison. It could not have occured at a worse time - today was when the Hammerfall army was to return Schmidt home. Upon arrival, the Commander was conducting an investigation as he and his men interviewed those who were present that night. He was just as baffled at this predicament when he noticed the sisters.

"Your Highness! I thought you'd come here."

"How could anyone not see him?" asked Elsa.

"Tell her, trooper."

The guard was visibly shaking in the knowledge his punishment was inevitable. "I'm so sorry Madame! We were just doing our duty. It was just like any other night, nothing out of the ordinary. Well, besides your presence and-"

"Don't hesitate!" cried Elsa, "Time is of the essence! What happened?"

"It's unbelievable, but hear me out! We didn't notice then, but looking back, the place was _very slowly_ getting warmer. It became so comfortable we, as in us and the inmates... we fell asleep! That's what everyone else will-"

Schimdt would have used his powers in heating the area, that Elsa knew as she hurried to his cell. On inspection, there was nothing to suggest him burning his way out. Leaning on the bars, she delved into her mind finding any other method, but doing so made her recall how she tried to romance him, making her giddy at the fun of seeing him try to hide his feelings for her. It did work, she thought, for he would not have revealed his secret otherwise. She yearned to evoke the moment he caressed her hair, but it never felt the same even as she stroked over the precise spot he had done, where that upended pin was...

She groaned. Of course he would be looking for any means to escape, cursing herself for allowing her feelings to take over and let him get close, providing him the opportunity. Elsa hung her shoulders as she dipped into depression; even Anna's calls were mere background noise, about something she had seen. Only when her arm was being tugged did Elsa face her, and she was pointing at the bedsit. Underneath it was the wineglass - and it was empty.

It seemed so petty, but the notion Schmidt had taken the drink restored a little of Elsa's hopes to save him. "Get yourself dressed," she told Anna, "We're sticking to the plan."

Hours passed since everyone prepared themselves, but the whole town was on edge as the Hammerfall army had yet to appear. Their worries appeared to become corporeal, a mist which descended on that cold midday, darkening the royal manor. Anna clutched her winter cloak as she tried to keep her mind from thinking of the worst outcome. The only thing that kept the tedium and tension lingering in the cool air at bay was watching Elsa in her Hammerfall dress. Anna wondered what went through her sister's mind as she paced back and forth in the corridor, her face changing so subtly one would not notice without his full attention.

Occasionally Elsa would turn to a window, but with the mist, she could not be looking outside. Anna imagined they were portals, allowing Elsa to heed some philosopher or military leader lost in history, her ancestors, or even gods from some ancient religion. Perhaps they revealed a set of branching paths leading to countless outcomes based on the decisions she made. Or maybe they were showing her enemies, how they would be acting now. It was as if she was playing chess- no, thought Anna, there is no luck in that game, and Elsa needed all the luck she could get. In fact, at Kristoff's advice in further honing her people skills, she took up card games, much to Anna's dismay.

How appropriate, she thought, that Elsa, who some began to call the Queen of Diamonds, was gambling with phantom opponents, risking everything for the wild card who stole her heart- no, Schmidt was not a joker, he deserved something more fitting for a commoner who was worth more than even a king... the Ace of Hearts! Anna grinned at her spark of creativity as she visualised him standing with Elsa looking equally determined. Never before did she appreciate just how well the two fit together.

Suddenly the air was rocked by a low, bellowing and unbelievably loud noise that shook those who heard it, as if a demon had possessed a church organ and heralded the beginning of the end times with its roar. Elsa, Anna and Kristoff rushed to the harbour where the sound came from. Everyone had gathered there, terrified children huddled behind their parents, saying a sea monster had come to swallow Arendelle whole. Even the waves seemed submissive in its calm as a giant tusk slowly pierced through the veil of the mist, followed by an imposing dark mass that resembled a bloated whale, belching thick fumes from the top and gargling water behind its steep wings.

What made it truly fearsome was that as it neared port, Anna noticed, among a manner of strange little protrusions and geometric shapes, the almost hidden profile of a chimney, and tucked under the "wings" were paddles; this beast was born not of Heaven or Earth, but of Man and steel. It was a steamship, an evolution of the experiment she witnessed at the state visit, and painted along the bow was its name: _Regem Aquilonis._

The vessel came to a halt as it reached the pier. A squeaking sound was heard from a tall rectangular shape on portside, before hinging outwards, and dropped onto the pier with a metallic bang. This was a set of steps that allowed access to the ship, and from it, a company of soldiers marched onto the harbour, their plain olive livery as dour as the peaked caps that covered their eyes. As the last unit completed its formation, a lone figure stepped out. He was an officer, standing apart not just from his tall, confident stance, but also from his uniform and overcoat, black with mauve trim, and hung from his side was a horsewhip. His cap was bigger than the others' as he approached the sisters and introduced himself.

"Captain Peinwald of the Hammerfall expedionary force. I must say Madame, it's an honour to set foot on Arendelle, the fairest of the royal states, and it is most considerate of you to wear your gloves! The Grand General sends his regrets, but the insubordinates have gotten more restless since news of Schmidt's capture reached Hammerfall, and preventing them from openly revolting requires his full attention. He's placed me in command of the operation."

As he removed his cap, the top of his head was bald as a bean, broken by a thin strip of dirty blonde hair. The rest of it seemed to have migrated to his thick, briary beard. Dark rings surrounded pale blue eyes that sunk into his gaunt face. "Now," he added, "Do you have Schmidt ready?"

"Unfortunately," answered Elsa, "He's escaped. Our army is searching for him as we speak."

Peinwald stroked his beard, showing hints of what was either pensiveness or annoyance. To her surprise, he chuckled to himself. "I'd be amazed if he couldn't. Always a slippery one, he is, but I'm sure the Commander and his men will redeem themselves."

"So you're going to just wait?"

"Far from it. As a token of our appreciation for your support, Hammerfall invites you to a tour of our latest and greatest innovation! What stands before you is the very first _Schildkröte_ frigate, apex predator of the seas!"

"Pardon me Captain," noted Anna, "But Hammerfall is nowhere near a sea!"

"That's besides the point Madame. To further strengthen the goodwill between us, the ministries have a proposal: When we have Schmidt, not only will the insubordinates stand down, but we will gift the Regem Aquilonis to you. We await your decision after the tour. Shall we?"

The first thing they noticed upon embarking was that the main deck was entirely enclosed, with steel on the outside and curved timber within, and the huge box funneling towards the top was only part of the engine. Anna was struck with both awe and fear, that it was more like being inside a giant's ribcage. "It's quite an unusual shape." she remarked.

"It has to be when you want a ship that can take a pounding," Peinwald replied, "The armour's shallow angles are designed so that the enemy's shots will harmlessly bounce off it. The inner wooden lining further dampens both its impact and noise."

Kristoff studied one of the guns. It was quite an advancement over those of other ships, most notably the spiralling grooves inside the barrel, and the ammunition was similar to bullets used in the army's rifles; elongated and housed in a brass casing of propellant. This did not escape Peinwald's attention. "Oh yes," he said, "This vessel can dish it out as well as take it! Allow me to demonstrate!"

Peinwald led them to the ship's wheel. Three rectangular chutes hung from the ceiling in front and to the sides. "These are periscopes." he explained, "They allow the pilot to see where he's going whilst under the ship's protection. There's also one above us at the lookout which can rotate, giving us better vision from all directions and- _Madame!?"_

Anna had already flown to the lookout as she swung around the device with gay abandon. "I can see everything from here!" she shouted, "Our home, North Mountain, even Weaseltown!"

 _"Westleton!"_ corrected Elsa. "Forgive her, Captain, she can be a little excited with new things."

Peinwald took a few moments to supress his ire. "Anyway," he said, "Take a look through the middle periscope, and may Madame Anna steer hers towards the front. See that large rock off the coast? It has stood there since time immemorial. It would take millions of years for nature to make even a crack, and the most powerful weapons would leave nothing more than a chip - until now. _Fire!"_

The bang from the cannnon shook Elsa's body. In an instant the rock was engulfed in a fiery blast, hefty chunks flying and crashing into the sea, and as the resulting smoke dissipated, its remains were barely above the water.

"Impressive, Captain."

"Oh no Madame, it's the engineers who deserve the praise! Now, this ship is about to make a runaround, if you will, just so you can see the engine room in action. Come."

No sooner did they step through the door, the air was hot with the smell of metal and oil, so thick it felt as if they had to wade through it. Of the three, Anna was a little less bothered by it; Elsa wondered if all Hammerfall was like this. The room was more like a cavern, open and dark, mottled with a sickly yellow of lamps. Some were fastened to the engine, like sigils in worship of the beast's heart; two huge vats covered in a menagerie of pipes, cylinders and pistons, which were connected to other large moving parts, whirring, humming and hissing from the occasional vent of steam.

"The use of steam power was first discovered in ancient times," said Peinwald, "But nobody could figure out how to make it effective beyond novelty value. Thanks to our innovative spirit, Hammerfall has found the means to fully harness its potential. These boilers are heated so when the water inside evaporates, it's forced through to produce kinetic energy, which in turn powers the mechanisms that propel the entire vessel, before condensing back into the boiler as water, and the cycle begins again."

"That must require a lot of heat and pressure." said Kristoff. "In fact, it sounds dangerous!"

"Well observed Sir! That's why we employ only the best to work it."

Anna watched those who were in charge of the engine's operation, tirelessly keeping watch of countless dial and gauges, dripping in sweat as they also fed the firebox which provided the heat. The flames within were bright and furious, but it made her wince, for she imagined this was Hell, what Schmidt saw at the Red Morning, and reminding her of the nightmare. Elsa too peered in, but in contrast she appeared utterly enthralled, her face placid and eyes glazed over. Anna could not attain why she was like this, or why the vision touched her. Whatever it was, she had to step away from it - and bumped into a crewman, spilling coal onto the floor.

She picked up the lumps and apologised profusely, but in doing so stained her hands. In a fit of panic, she attempted to wipe them off, only to spread it to her arms and dress. Kristoff interevened, putting her in his hug until she calmed down. Elsa remained cool despite the embarassment of Anna and her husband covered in soot; she was more concerned with Peinwald's reaction, and his face was stiffer then usual, keeping himself from venting his own steam.

The ship was returning to port as they moved back to the main deck. "If our enemies are stupid enough and attempt to sink this," Peinwald said, "They will only fail, and they will keep failing until they learn not to mess with us again. Consider it further proof of the unbeakable bond between Arendelle and Hammefall. But before your decision, do you have any questions?"

"How's Mr. Holstein?" asked Anna.

It was only for a blink, but his surprise was signalled by the slightest twitch on his face before answering in sorrow.

"He died."

Anna gasped in shock. Elsa's was more constrained, but she was actually paralysed from the ominous chill that crept inside.

"None of us saw it coming. Said to have been a freak accident with his new farming equipment, that he was so excited with how the machinery worked."

That would be the official statement, thought Elsa, though she could not shake off the possibility it hid a more sinister explaination...

"Is that all Madame?"

"Yes."

"So I ask: Do you accept the offer?

"No."

Her answer startled Peinwald as his face wrinkled up, looking elsewhere in finding something else to say, but before he could, she added

"Forgive me Captain, but as queen, I must adhere to Arendelle's traditions, and since Schmidt is in my land, he is also subject to its laws. Having trespassed on royal grounds as well as absconding, he will face our punishments."

Peinwald's patience was beginning to wear thin, evidenced in how he was stroking his beard harder. "You do know Hammerfall won't take this kindly." he said quietly.

"Don't worry. I'll arrange the Red Morning trial to take place here as well. Like you said, ours is the fairest of the royal states, and we will ensure he recieves just that. I'm sure the citizens will understand."

"Are you absolutely sure about that?" he said, leaning forward with a pilfering glance, "Because if those rumours about the two of you are true, they'd be very understanding. Enough, perhaps, to side with the insubordinates."

Elsa remained unfazed by his threat, and continued to stand her ground. "And if what I hear is true Captain, those same insubordinates want him dead. With the Grand General having to remain, that sounds like it's getting more dangerous over there. As a fellow soldier, shouldn't you be concerned with Schmidt's safety too?"

In the face of this impasse, Peinwald became visibly agitated, and paced around the trio. "Growing up," he said, "I was told House Arendelle has been lauded throughout history for standing by its ideals - to a fault, some would say. It seems each generation of your family has suffered some major mishap as a result of this, as what happened to your father."

His words struck her heart. It was only the gloves that prevented her true reaction being revealed. It gave impression he was referring to the duel, and her acknowledging it would give him more leverage. That, she could not afford.

"Are you suggesting his dedication resulted in his death?"

"My apologies Madame! I didn't mean to sound like that! What happened to your parents was most unfortunate, but had they survived, I think they would have instilled some restraint to your sister."

"What has Anna got to do with this?"

"You say Schmidt is subject to Arendelle's laws did you not? Well, the Regem Aquilonis is currently in possession of the Martial Ministry, and as such, anyone on board is subject to their rules. As Commander, it's my duty to enforce them, so Madame Anna should be treated for her misbehaviour the same way my men would - with discipline!"

A crack was heard, followed by Anna yelping in pain, clutching her backside. Elsa was shocked and disgusted seeing Peinwald's smirk as he caressed his horsewhip. "That was uncalled for!" Kristoff said angrily.

"And what will you do, good Sir? Defend your wife's honour, pauper?"

Kristoff closed his fist and aimed at Peinwald's face, but was stopped by Elsa, her steeled eyes telling him not to play into the captain's game, and slowly backed down. "Wise choice." Peinwald snided, "You laying a finger on me would not only cause further embarassment, it could also be seen as an act of war. Madame, Will you still risk Hammerfall's wrath in keeping Schmidt for yourself?"

In the silence, Anna noticed the crew stopped working and watched with grave concern as Elsa and Peinwald stood like mountains, neither willing to compromise. She could almost taste the tension, as if each knew there was something about Schmidt, that he was instrumental to _something_ , but she could not fathom why, and it frightened her, holding onto Kristoff to hide her trembling. It was finally broken by Peinwald's curled lip.

"I've heard you enjoy card games Madame. Well, I'm sure you'll enjoy this then."

He gestured elsewhere, and from the shadows came a soldier. His uniform was in the same colours as Peinwald, but his body was abnormally tall and thin, a walking beanstalk. Peinwald whispered to him as the walkway opened, and as soon as it hit the pier, the soldier sprinted outside like the wind. "Who's that?" Said Elsa.

"Glad you asked!" answered Peinwald. "You say your men will recapture him, did you not? That trooper is only one card from my hand, and I'll wager my reputation against yours, for I will showcase another of Hammerfall's innovations. I guarantee they will get Schmidt in my custody first, and you'll be unable to do anything about it."

"Who are they?"

"The jaghunde."

Looking outside, the mist had cleared, yet it only appeared more bleak as heavy snowfall took its place. Deep down, Elsa prayed Heaven was on her side.


	10. Keep running Wolfhound

**Chapter 10**

Schmidt felt the cold bite from each snowflake on his face, though it did not bother him as much as his stomach - he had not eaten since last night, as he made his way through the forest. Crawling on his belly among the dead leaves and shrubs, their stems scratched his skin. He felt like a rat, using all of his senses in ascertaining when it was safe to move. But with the snow getting heavier, it was becoming difficult to see further, and he had to be aware of leaving behind footprints. Soon it would be impossible to determine which direction he was heading, and thus Schmidt now had to maintain a balance of stealth and speed.

He got to his feet, slowly moving via bush, log and tree, but dropped down as he tried to figure out the faints sounds that was approaching. They became more distinct: Slow purposeful patters accompanied by cautious sniffs. Schmidt felt his body heat up with dread as the entities revealed themselves to be wolves, their eyes looking back with hunger and violence. As the beasts circled closer, he had to pin his urge to fight them, lest their barks attract more unwanted attention.

One stopped to stare straight at him. This one was bigger than the others and ravaged in scars; it was the alpha male, one that survived countless attempts by the others to overthrow him. Yet he stood just as still, only snarling at another wolf when it got any closer to Schmidt, as if... there was an understanding? It had to be, a recognition from one pack leader to another: This was the same group he fought off, and whom he saved Anna from. It was strangely calming to see something so savage show respect.

Suddenly it jerked, fangs bared and growled. the others stood poised to attack, all facing the same direction. "Wolves!" shouted an Arendelle soldier, not noticing Schmidt was only yards away. The rest of the platoon were not far behind, but they halted in the presence of predators. "What's wrong?" asked the sergeant.

"Sir, they usually run off when we come, but these aren't. Should we move away?"

"What would Her Majesty think if we retreated from mere animals?"

With neither side willing to back down, the tension was almost unbearable as Schmidt slowly clasped his hands to stop the flames being summoned.

"For Heaven's sake!" said the sergeant, "Fire a shot!"

The boom made Schmidt flinch, but instead of scattering, the wolves charged at the soldiers. It was during this chaos he saw an opportunity, and dashed away. Beasts make better judges, Ludwig once told him, though he never thought it so literally as he quietly thanked them.

Such was the severity of the snowstorm one could only guess the time of day, yet as Schmidt continued his escape, it felt as if it had been both forever and only a moment ago since his close shave. Either way, he had to stop and catch his breath, and sat beside an old oak log. For all of his father's advice and the military training, he had yet to formulate what to do when he would finally be safe from his captors. No, he thought, there will be plenty of time for that when he does make it out - if he can.

A deer was nearby, minding its own business. Schmidt could not help but appreciate how oblivious it seemed to the world around it, and held back the nolstalgia for his own childhood as the snow blew into him. The feeling ceased when the animal stood rigid, eyes and ears towards one direction. Schmidt knew it did not sense him as the wind would have carried his scent and give him away, so what did it notice? He peeked over, but all he could see were faintly dark shapes among the trees - a little too dark and somewhat unnatural, yet somehow familiar, especially their tops. He focused hard to see if he could remember where he saw those details last, a certain peaked form...

Peaked caps.

He ducked down as a hail of bullets whizzed past his head, stunned by loud bangs with sick stabbing sounds when they struck the log. He had been trained to withstand being under fire, but not by this many shots and for so long, before he was hit by his own mind-borne bullet: _They are the jagdhunde and they are using my tactic against me!_

When the barrage stopped Schmidt sprinted away. Looking back, all he could see was a large cloud of gunpowder smoke and the deer, writhing in blood and agony. It would not last much longer, and neither will he if he cannot find a way to stall his former comrades. He could not have burned the log as it was still green and there were too many of them to fight against.

He found himself up a steep hill. The jagdhunde were not far behind. They would also have reloaded for another salvo. Schmidt cursed the weather as they simply followed his footprints now the snow was thick on the ground. Again, the screaming shots and bangs pinned him down, unable to move and struggling for breath. He was told this was how it felt to be caught in an avalanche...

Schmidt's eyes lit up. Why did he not think of this before? Against suppressing fire, he dug his hands into the ground and flamed it. The soldiers had no time to evade as the white wave burst through the smoke and slammed into them, stopped their chase. How long for, Schmidt did not know, but any time he gained was invaluable.

His run was cut by a ravine, though he could make out a narrow bridge across. As he approached, a trooper emerged from the grey and blocked his path, his black and mauve uniform barely containing a physique that was substancial in both height and width - and he had to be with the satchel of bombs at his waist. Schmidt knew immediately it was Stierhund, the jagdhunde's grenadier. "Stop right there traitor!" he yelled, aiming his rifle, "Did you think you'd get away with what you did?"

"You know I would never commit such crimes, comrade!"

Stierhund's immense strength stemmed from his childhood; his family were so poor they sent him out to wrestle pigs and plough the fields with a harness designed for an ox, just so they could pay the rent. His circumstance also meant he did not learn to read or write until his conscription to the military academy. Thus, his lack of intellectual knowledge had him derided as an uncultured country bumpkin who let his fists do the talking. It was Schmidt who helped him with his studies and to realise his dependence on his power was also his weakness.

Stierhund was under orders to capture Schmidt, but the respect he held for his former captain remained as the gun wavered. Schmidt knew the man-mountain would have to be desperate if he were to pull the trigger now. However,that outcome was becoming more real as Stierhund steadied his arms when more Arendelle troops arrived from behind. "Surrender to us," cried one of them, "And Her Majesty ensures you'll recieve a fair trial here!"

How he would love to cherish the thought were it not for Stierhund standing there now, yet he also could not bear to see his friend die, for the troops would probably do the same to him. There was only one chance, perhaps, for both of them to live, but it was a huge risk. Schmidt ran towards him, knowing the Arendelle soldiers would not risk injuring him by firing now, and attempted to leap over, but he was caught in Stierhund's python-like arms and felt their pressure. With the the air being squeezed from his lungs, he was desperately reaching for the bombs, his vision growing darker along with his conscienceness. "You... have to release me!" he croaked.

"Not this time!" boasted Stierhund, "What makes you think you can trick me again?"

"Can you... smell it?"

Stierhund stood confused - and dropped Schmidt when the odour of burning wick reached his nostrils, fumbling his satchel in panic, but in doing so made it harder for him to get at it as some of the bombs dropped on the floor. Schmidt gasped in relief when his senses returned, taking one before running off and shouted

"Throw the whole thing away you moron!"

Stierhund tossed it over the side and dived - and was sent airbourne as the entire bridge went up in an almighty explosion, raining timber and dust everywhere. His ears were still ringing when he came round, and as he got up, he was looking down the barrels of several rifles...

Schmidt continued to run. His heart was racing, begging him to take a break, but he could not stop, as now his running was in order, compared to the chaos in his mind, of wanting not to die unjustly, to not imagine Elsa's heartache of her handing him over, of his own desire for her that she emboldened, that could lead to a war they could not stop even if they used their powers together... could they? He told himself to stop, and he was right, for he could not go on like this - his magic had the possibilty he could literally burn himself out. Yet he had to take the risk, because it was as if the trees and their bare, twisting branches were out to get him, and from the shadows, a lanky streak of jagdhund colours was approaching at speed; there was only one who could be that fast.

Little was known about the soldier codenamed Windhund. Some say he was brought up in Westleton - a colony of rats in the guise of a royal state, under an overbearing hardline priest, which could explain his upright stature and his ability to recite entire books of holy text. Others claim he moonlighted as a thief for the city's criminal underworld, using his long limbs to traverse routes less travelled, running under sewers and across rooftops. There was one rumour that he messed up a job big time, and it involved the the aristocracy. To avoid a scandal, they issued a bounty on his head. He fled to Hammerfall, and in return for sanctuary, offered his skills in service of the military. The only certain thing about him was that he immediately took a shine to Schmidt - he was inspired by the hushed tales of Ludwig.

But now, he was focused on the mission, feeling the burn in his legs as he sprinted faster, for his safety, the republic, and most of all for Schmidt, for the former leader would not have it any other way. Windhund was bursting with adrenaline, each step getting closer to the prize, and the thought Schmidt would not escape gave him a pleasure like no other. Almost upon him, he prepared to tackle, and so he was dumbfounded to see himself slipping head over heels and crashing. Immediately he took aim, only to find the wet earth seeped into his rifle and jammed its mechanisms; how could there be wet earth on such a cold day?

Schmidt was in the distance, and Windhund grinned seeing him stop to take a breath. He resumed his charge, putting aside his doubts over the accusation of his friend being behind the Red Morning, and blanked out the respect he had even as Schmidt pleaded him to come no closer. Not this time! he thought, launching himself when he noticed the steam surrounding Schmidt... and the precipice he now overflew as he clutched him in fear. The two wrestled as they tumbled downhill, everything around them was chaos, helpless in a violent blur punctuated by sharp bumps.

Only when it finally ended did Schmidt feel the full pain of his injuries. Windhund was also groaning, but neither had the energy to move, not that they wanted to - the puddle of mud they were in was oddly warm and relaxing. Schmidt wondered if it could get any worse as he looked at the cuts on his hands - and they were empty.

Both seized in terror; during their tussle, he had unknowingly lit the bomb he was carrying - and now it lay only a few inches away. They attempted to move towards the explosive, but in his desperation, Schmidt's power made the ground wetter and more difficult to move, growing moreso as the wick burned ever close to the casing. But even when death was certain, he would not allow fear to defeat him, and instead was proud that though his life was short, he gave it his very best as he braced himself for the inevitable bright light...

And it was just that.

Schmidt was stupified; is this what death feels like, where the world simply froze as if nothing happened? Or was this some cruel prank of fate? The bomb was still there, and as reality crept back into his vision, he noticed the wick was only a hair's width from igniting; the blackened remainder was seperated by the flash of a bayonet, now pressed against his throat.

Looking past the rifle, he instantly recognised his captor and saviour: The little man with the ever youthful, wide eyed face of curiosity. The black sheep of a well-to-do family who was so ashamed of his slow, virtually mute character his childhood was spent hidden from the world with only encyclopedias for company. An idiot savante whose sudden outbursts of anger would have had him booted from the academy - had Schmidt not take the time to help him control his temper and use his vast intellect to the fullest; the soldier who looked up to him most and repayed his kindness by using said knowledge to predict his escape path and ensure his capture. Still, Schmidt was compelled to congratulate him.

"Of all the jagdhunde, I always thought you would be the one to best me, Bluthund."

Even as an adult, he seldom spoke outside the field, but his quivering lips and welled-up eyes said what every jagdhund wanted to say now, that they knew Schmidt was innocent and they wished it never came to this, but orders are orders, and they could not disobey. "I guess you are Wolfhund now?" Schmidt asked.

"He's not!" Windhund scowled.

"Then who-"

There was no point in asking. For Hammerfall's security, a jagdhund can reveal his name, rank, hometown and occupation, but everything else, no matter how trivial it seemed, was forbidden; something must be seriously wrong for one of them to just burst out with anger. As more of his former comrades turned up, they helped Windhund out of the ground, who then proceeded to make the announcement:

"Captain Gerhard Schmidt, by order from the Republic of Hammerfall, you are under arrest for the crimes of arson, treason, desertion and murder, but as an officer, you have a choice: Return home and face justice, or regain your honour in death. Should it be the latter, you are granted a meal, a place of your choosing and one request. How do you answer?"

* * *

A company of troops assisted the stagecoach as it traveled onward. It was one of a kind, made by Hammerfall's finest craftsmen for use as Elsa's personal carriage. While its outer appearance lacked the pomp and embellishments one would expect, given its customer, the spacious interior was fit for an emperor; figured maple panelling, full-grained leather seats and red silk curtains, made warmer with a modest amount of gold trim.

Kristoff looked outside. The overcast sky was getting darker by the minute, draining the forests of colour. Earlier he spoke to Stierhund, who was captured by Arendelle after the bridge was destroyed, and was now being escorted with them. The jagdhund never uttered a word, though he did give an approving nod when Kristoff asked if Schmidt was worthy of the Windhund title. He was holding Anna by his side, but it was of little comfort to her; the marching steps were the very definition of time itself; unchanging, unrelenting, uncaring, and her own green party dress - the one she wore at the coronation, was all wrong for this occasion, perverse even. However, she reserved her anguish, for she did not want to give that impression to Elsa, sitting stolid and placid.

Anna theorised her sister was still in shock at the news: Schmidt was captured by Hammerfall, and he chose to die; his final request was to recieve a kiss from the queen. As a gesture of goodwill, Elsa also agreed to hand back Stierhund. However, Anna could not shake off this underlying tension, kept aware by the flaming pattern of the figured maple; what was with Schmidt and his father's advice to keep his heart in check, and the Red Morning that was etched into her dream last night? Why was Elsa in such torpor when she looked into the furnace of the Regem Aquilonis?

In an effort to stop these thought overcoming her, Anna focused on controlling her breath, as Schmidt told her during the encounter with the wolves, and in her determination to stay calm, something began to take shape within the maelstrom of thoughts, a narrow shaft of light? Something she did not think before? She concentrated as hard as she could, for it was there, yet this goal remained foggy, as if she was being held back by... doubt? disbelief? If that was what prevented her discovery, well, she had to do what Elsa did and cast them-

Anna jerked at the sudden silence when the coach and marching stopped, and cursed under her breath as the shock swept the answer back into the unreachable depths of her mind. They reached their destination, the frozen lake where she caught up to him before. As they alighted, Peinwald and his company of soldiers were still waiting for the jagdhunde to arrive. "Is something the matter?" Elsa asked when he watched her intently.

"Just making sure you're wearing gloves, Madame... Oh, and thank you for bringing one of ours back!"

His compliment seemed rather hasty; Hammerfall citizens do not bother with learning the customs when speaking to a royal, but they, and an officer of all people, could at least express a little respect for Elsa's mercy. If Peinwald did have the humility, he did not show it.

Everybody looked as a group of men clad in black and mauve appeared from the trees, and at the front for all to see was Schmidt, shackled and handcuffed. He was astounded upon seeing Peinwald; now he knew why Windhund sounded so angry.

"Heinrich!? What on Earth got you promoted!?"

"That's classified Schmidt, not that you'll live long enough to know."

As he walked onto thin ice, the jaghunde remained some yards away as they loaded their rifles. "Madame," said Peinwald, "You may now grant Schmidt his wish. Just remember to keep your hands behind you."

Despite their stoic stances, they could not look at each other, he to Elsa's unspoilt complexion and her to his scratched and bruised face, remorseful for the mistakes they took in their reckless pursuits. After some seconds Elsa finally asked

"Gerhard, Why did you run? I could've-"

"I heard. You wanted the trial here. You could have told me last night, but I cannot betray Hammerfall- no, I was stupid and afraid. In hindsight, I should have followed your words: _fortis fortuna adiuvat_. Well, at least we tried."

"So this is the end?"

There was no answer - the futilty in his eyes said it all. If there was anything Elsa could do, it was to help him leave this world a little happier.

"Then remember this: Life is suffering and fate can be cruel, no denying that. But don't think I'll be in despair for the rest of my days because you're gone. Your existence has given me so much more to live for, and no matter what occurs from now, you'll always be here in my heart. That, I will never let go."

He felt her truth as she placed her mouth in his; a slow, caressing kiss; a taste of what could have been. When she finished, Schmidt was left momentarily bewildered, then clenched his hands as he beamed with unabashed joy. It only hurt Anna more as Elsa returned, her face unchanged. She upheld her dutiful manner while Windhund gave his prayer and the jaghunde prepared the execution. Peinwald began the order.

"Ready."

Anna could not fathom how her sister can let this happen when they knew the consequences, desperate to intervene as she fidgeted about, but Elsa kept her in check with a frigid glance.

"Aim."

This had to be a farce, some sick joke as the jaghunde leveled their guns at Schmidt - especially as he looked so defiant, but she could not bear to watch the impending tragedy, and held onto Kristoff, wanting it to end already.

 _"Fire!"_

The forests echoed in gunfire, followed by a splash. She did not want to look, but instinct dictated her, and all that was left was a hole in the ice where Schmidt fell. In the dark silence, the sadness disappeared into the lake. Anger took its place, and she had to vent it. She marched straight towards Peinwald, wrenched his horsewhip and-

Her arm locked up as it was hit by Elsa's magic. The fact she was denied the chance to get her own back was the last straw. She wanted to howl, but there simply was no point now Arendelle was doomed. "Where are you going?" Kristoff asked as she mounted a horse.

"Home."

And with that, she galloped away, eyeing Elsa with utter contempt.

Nobody spoke as the coach made its return. Kristoff pondered on what happened, and some things about it did not seem right; Schmidt being so overjoyed from the kiss, and how he looked so dignified before he died was unlike how he was at any other time, and Elsa's posture, even now, was flawless - almost too flawless. These thoughts troubled him, and the only way to lift them off his shoulders was to ask her.

He chose to remain silent when he saw the frozen tear on her cheek.


	11. Let it go

**Chapter 11**

Stark was the moon as it hung low in the black still sky, lighting the snowy forest in an eery glow. Equally bare were the trees, wrinkled and gnurled from centuries of exposure to the elements; such was the freezing cold one could easily snap off their twigs. It is hard to imagine anybody could survive a night like this. It was of little concern to Schmidt.

There was nothing physical to hinder him, yet it felt as if he had to wade through a clashing mob of feelings and memories trying to hold him down; a glaring moon, abyssal shade, the Red Morning, the chill of hard frost on hot skin. Elsa was right, her kiss gave him an even higher sense of resolve - and the hairpin he used to unlock the shackles. Though his heart was beating stronger than ever, he would not allow himself the fustration of being unable to thank her, or that Ludwig was not there to help regain his calm.

Right now, there was a new goal to keep him from giving in to his emotions: To return to Hammerfall. Now the world believed he was dead, his appearance and explaination of what occured since the Red Morning there would cause the citizens to take a stand against the insubordinates and call for peace with Arendelle. Hopefully he would also convince the Martial Ministry for him to have the Wolfhund title reinstated over someone like Heinrich Peinwald. The need was so great it appeared a shadow ahead took his corporeal form...

"Going somewhere, little Schmidt?"

The jaghund captain trained his pistol on him with the rest of the unit lined up, the moonlight behind them made their silhouettes resemble grim reapers. "Thought you could evade the punishment you deserve?" he gloated, "But since you did survive, I'll allow the privilege of my answer to your question earlier: High command finally recognised my talents now they aren't blinded by your... bloodline. You see, Hammerfall is supposed to be free from our "noble" oppressors, yet the citizens loved Ludwig precisely because of his former status! How are we to progress if we cannot rid ourselves of the past? As they say, if you look to it, you're blind in one eye."

But if you ignore it, Schmidt was told, you are blind in both eyes. Peinwald was known as the kind who, while not lie outright, spoke only parts of the truth and bent them to make it favourable to him. This made his promotion all the more heinous as it opened another notion: If he was Schmidt's replacement since the Red Morning...

"Did you attack Madame Anna on her return to Arendelle?"

"Why so shocked? I won't stand by as our great city is being accustomed to prostituting her creations and values in exchange for handouts from the witch who defiled us! It was our message from the true disciples of our founding fathers!"

This information made something begin inside, just a whisper in his heart, but it was not his own: _An insubordinate leads the jagdhunde_. Whatever it was, it made his feelings stop and listen, something he had not experienced before.

"You must be thinking, why did the Grand General allow this to happen? Here's a thought: Did you ever wonder why that gorilla ordered for your capture rather than death? It's the same reason why he was afraid to look at you: He still held respect for your father, the man he served back on the Southern Isles, who saved his life, and he in turn helped Ludwig develop the jagdhunde - oh yes, Ludwig was the first to head the Martial Ministry, and his friend wasn't too happy with that, so with a little help from a few benefactors, deposed him in a scandal he helped orchestrate."

The voice spoke again, a little louder: _The Grand General betrayed your father_. The emotions began to stir, enkindling his heart. No matter how much he wanted it, Schmidt was unable to speak with these revelations.

"Still, it's funny and ironic Ludwig remained true to his principles and accepted his fate, ensuring you're the only person who doesn't know Hammerfall's worst kept secret, that is, the identity of the harlot who brought your unjust existence into this world. Unlike everyone else however, I know why he did it: To deflect them from your real secret."

Among the feelings swirling his soul, fear was the first to rise, a cold shiver that pulsed outward and stiffened his face; now he could not close his eyes.

"Did you think no one noticed you sneaking out at night into storage to worship that wretched snowflake, offering your gift when you ought to use it for our rightful justice after what she did to us? Though I suppose it cannot be helped that sorcerors would be attracted to each other. Why did I stay quiet about it? Because nobody would believe me with your reputation! There were, however, those who shared my concerns over your influence over the citizens, so I hatched a plan to showcase your dark side."

Another of Schmidt's demons surfaced: Anger pumped from his quickening heart, coursing in his blood and radiating from his body. The leaves around his feet started to curl up and crackle.

"It was for you to pay for your lack of conviction to our ideals and for Ludwig's original sin; two birds with one stone!"

The maelstrom of his emotions ravaged his nerves and pounded at the gates of his mind as the voice spoke again: _Heinrich was behind the Red Morning_. Only his father's mantra stood between them and his soul. "You know," said Peinwald, "I've always questioned if you've truly appreciated the value of Wolfhund; it's the equivalent of one outside a royal family to wear the king's own emblem - and the power that comes with it. But even as I'll make some use of it, unlike you, that won't allow me to forget the reminder of my failure, which I intend to rectify!"

He parted his beard, revealing a deep gash - the one Schmidt inflicted when he escaped Hammerfall.

 _He deserves more than that._

The voice was of hatred, the strike that broke through and spread inside his thoughts, manifesting itself in a scream:

 _"YOU MURDERED MY FATHER!"_

Peinwald calmly stepped back as flames licked from Schmidt's hands and the vision of him in agony distorted in an aura of stifling heat. "Brothers!" he proclaimed, "Behold your inspiration, the so-called son of Hammerfall! The Devil who wants to use his powers for his own selfish agenda, so of course he would allow himself to be tempted by the Ice Witch and realise their dreams of conquest!"

Everybody fled in terror as if the gates of Hell were opening; the sheer temperature made the leaves and trees ignite themselves. Fear, anger, hate; these feelings seared into Schmidt's soul as it embraced another: Desire for revenge, so compelling it was all that was worth achieving, and it would let nothing stop him. With the flames of the demon heart consuming him and the surrounding woods, he noticed the lights of Arendelle in the distance, and in the dying moments of his sanity, pleaded

"Father, Elsa, forgive me..."

* * *

Anna hit her bed. She lost count how many times she had done this, yet as her anger subsided, the realisation of how stupid she looked to Elsa whenever she went off on such tantrums saddened her as the question remained: How could she let the man she loved die knowing full well of the consequences? How many did she fail, and what would they have thought? Did she actually think she could take on Hammerfall? If that were the case, either she was driven insane, or she was prepared for war, possibly both.

One thing was certain, her room had turned pitch black since she returned, and all she saw was the silent chaos that reveals itself only in that situation, such that it was clouding her thoughts from the answers. As much as she dreaded it, Anna had to quell her dilemma and confront Elsa, forcing herself off the bed and out of the room. Her path was straight and true as she walked through the manor, resisting the urge to look upon portraits of kings and queens past, knowing they were watching her, judging her. Those who were in her way stepped aside, save the butler who stood stubbornly still. "Where's Elsa?" she asked.

"Madame, Her Majesty instructs that you should avoid her until the morn-"

Anna yanked him to her face. "Listen: I'm not in the mood for instructions, so unless you want to make an aquaintance with my fist, tell me where she is _right now_."

His head still ached from the bedroom door earlier that day and the last thing he needed was for it to last longer. "She is somewhere downtown," he admitted, "But I must say she is not her... usual self."

Locating Elsa was not difficult; one simply had to follow the crowd gathering at the town entrance. Such was the commotion and the sheer volume of voices they did not notice Anna until she pushed her way through. As singled-minded as she was, she could not ignore the worry and shame in their words. Squeezing past the innermost onlookers, what she saw filled her with disgust.

Elsa was inebriated, dancing provocatively and singing sea shanties as the men she flirted with clamoured for her attention. She was wearing her gloves, but her hair was dishevelled and her dress was unbuttoned; it seemed the corset underneath was what kept her standing. "Glad you joined us!" she said noticing Anna, "Take a drink and celebrate with our people, have fun, show them we're just as human!".

Elsa tried putting the glass to Anna's mouth, but she would not allow it. "Lighten up!" she said, "Besides, there are plenty more fish in the sea, right boys?"

"Aye!" said a drunken sailor, red-faced and merry as his friends cheered him on. "A royal willing to come down and sample the pleasures of us common folk gets my trust! I hope you're hungry milady, 'cos dining with the crew gets real filling!"

"Aren't you the brave one!" she replied. Drooping her shoulders, she closed her eyes and stood waiting for him to handle her, and the sailor thanked his lucky stars as he dived in for a kiss. What he got was an uppercut that sent him crashing onto his fellow seamen, falling everywhere like skittles. Everybody gasped as Anna looked to Elsa, her fist still clenched. "How can you embarass yourself like this?" she yelled.

As Anna tried to talk sense into her sister, Kristoff was nearby tending to Sven with the Commander. He was on Anna's side; Elsa was not one to give up her endeavours easily, so why did she simply forfeit Arendelle's fate? "Even Sven seems agitated by this." said the Commander as the reindeer fidgeted uncomfortably, but noticed there was something off when Kristoff looked just as worried. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's a dry wind..."

Anna continued in her attempt to make Elsa explain her inaction. "Look, if it means anything, I'm sorry for what I've done, but you know I can't shake off my... tendencies, it's a part of me! Do you remember how much your advisers were against making Kristoff a royal? What stopped you doing the same with Schmidt? Well, okay, he would've been reluctant being a republican and all, but I- your people are with you all the way! It's true everyone! Elsa loved-"

Anna found herself swayed into a waltz led by Elsa, blissfully unaware of her surroundings. She tried to escape, but her sister effortlessly countered her every move she made, having to keep up just to not fall. "I don't know what you're up to," she said, "But it won't stop fate! Just tell me why you let Schmidt go?"

"Why do you care?" Elsa answered, "Aren't you satisfied with Kristoff keeping you warm at night, or..."

She thrust Anna away, making her stumble onto her backside. "I get it," she snided, "You want Gerhard for yourself, seeing how he makes me melt. Yes, he's so much hotter and you know it!"

What she said made the answer flicker through the clouds of Anna's doubt, and yet now she did not want to find out, but the flashes of memory - Schmidt's warmth, Juli's confession, the furnace of the Regem Aquilonis - as much as it stared right into her, she should have figured it out sooner, and all that was left to do so was a confirmation.

"Elsa," she asked, her voice quaking from her placid body, "What was Schmidt hiding?"

One could hear a pin drop when the crowd fell noiseless. But in seconds Anna sensed something strange, that there was something wrong. Then she saw it: This was terror, a silent scream coming from Elsa's face, spreading into the crowd, all looking in the same direction. She felt it slither into her veins, for beyond the horizon she discovered the root of her dilemma.

The moon was obscured by ominous plumes of smoke, rising from an orange aura. As it glowed brighter, so did the realisation of what it was that Schmidt fought to hide from the world, and why Elsa wanted him so badly. Just as Anna could not bear it anymore, a bright flash began from the distant fire, mushrooming into a tidal flame, engulfing forest and sky as it surged toward the town. She saw the people flee, heard them howling, knocking each other over in panic.

The nightmare was-

 _"NO!"_ she shrieked. She would not give in to fear again; this was her time, and there only one way to stop it. Leaping to her feet, she held Elsa's hands to pull off her gloves, yet she could not; the despair that held Elsa froze them to her skin. Struggling as she did, Anna noticed Kristoff and the Commander fighting to keep Sven from bolting. "Help me damn it!" she yelled. The Commander was left flung around by the beast as Kristoff rushed to help pry the gloves off, but even with his strength, they refused to yield. The heat was turning unbearable as the incoming blaze rushed closer, and they fought, not only to save Arendelle from annihilation, but also themselves from eternal shame, but it was too late, their final senses seeing a roaring wall of fire, and a soul-piercing scream...

Anna and Kristoff slammed onto the floor as the fire flew overhead, setting the town's rooftops alight before vanishing into the air. For a moment she was dazed at how she and Arendelle had not been burnt to a crisp. The sound and smell of burning wood was undeniable, yet the heat was gone; quite the opposite, a ghostly chill through her body; the vision of Hell was shielded by a huge barrier of ice, and inside was a faint shadow where Elsa should have been.

Anna wept. Not since the death of her parents did she feel so much sorrow. She gave her life for Elsa, yet she could never think her sister would do the same. She should have listened to her in keeping her impulses under control, even if it was for family love. "I'm so sorry!" she cried, refusing to accept the conclusion to these turn of events, punching the wall in fustration. Still she lashed out as Kristoff struggled to restrain her. "Get a hold of yourself!" he commanded, "Acting like a damn animal won't help! You think Elsa would be pleased to see you like this?"

She knew from the firmness of his grip and his eyes he was right. Her knuckles were bleeding in allowing anger to take hold. Only regret remained in what was barely a scratch on the wall. There was no point in resisting as the feeling grew moreso within as well. A realisation struck her:

The scratch was growing with the pain?

It was no longer that, but a faint snap, then a crack, then a few more, each splintering into ones deeper, bigger and louder than the last, increasing in number and speed, pushing itself outward, as if something was about to-

Kristoff covered Anna as the wall shattered like crystallised thunder, yet the shards stopped inches away from them, holding torn fragments of a Hammerfall dress. For a moment they could not believe what they were seeing: The forest was ablaze, blackened trees writhing in brown smoke and golden hellfire, and a sole figure sparkled in defiance to it all, a woman draped in a beautiful blue gown and a clear cape that flowed like liquid glass, snow falling from her fingers.

The joy of knowing Elsa was alive was too much for Anna, racing to give her the biggest hug she could do, yet it was short-lived as Elsa did not return the gesture. Instead she viewed the destruction ahead with a stare so cold and sharp Anna was afraid to look into them herself. Never before had she seen her sister like this; even if there was no other way, does she, the fabled Snow Queen, have the power to stop her fire counterpart?

After what seemed like the longest few seconds she finally took action. "Commander, change of plan: Get your men to prevent the fires doing further damage to the town. Kristoff, give me Sven and help bring our people to safety."

"What about me?" asked Anna.

"Stay here."

"You expect me to just stand here when our land's going up in smoke? And what do you mean by change of plan? Elsa, I won't stop following you until you give me- _what the..!?"_

Anna's feet was stuck in ice as Elsa mounted Sven and galloped into the forest. Cleaving a frozen swathe through the devastation, she rode deeper into the summer-fanged maw of Inferno, the monster Schmidt had unleashed unto the world. She contributed to this outcome, and sought to redeem herself of it, armed with the power of winter and the oath of her ascension:

 _As was done by those before me since time immemorial, I, Elsa Regina Arendellia, under decree and grace of Heaven, solemnly swear to bear the burden of preserving the honour of my noble family, guide my people to prosperity, and protect the realm from all who seek to exploit or destroy it._

 _Even if it breaks my heart._


	12. Seasons of the abyss

**Chapter 12**

Heinrich Peinwald tried to keep his coughing under control, blindly making his way through the flaming forest. The sounds of scorched wood breaking itself apart was deafening, the heat so incredible it was impossible to even sweat, and with his throat dry he wanted to take a deep breathe, but doing so would inhale the red smoke that was everywhere. He hated having to feel his way through, lest touching anything would burn his hands, something Schmidt never had to worry about. If not for now, he would imagine what he would do with that kind of power in his posession, and thus it filled him with rage to think it belonged to one whose noble blood violated Hammerfall's principles and goals. He did not care what became of Schmidt, his fellow jagdhunde or even the now dire situation; all that mattered to him was that he returned home and reap the rewards his benefactors promised. Just anticipating the looks of Yevgeny, Michel, Sweeney and Donaldo - especially Donaldo - giving praise begrudgingly made him smirk.

In his lapse of focus he tripped over and fell. Peinwald swore to himself now it hurt just to get up, and so he crawled onwards, determined to further the founding fathers' aims. No, he thought, they were weak and naive to even consider living alongside the very rulers they sought to free themselves from. All the while, there was a nagging feeling he could not escape, that something was watching him, an evil shade stalking in the fumes, not waiting for a moment to strike, but as if it savoured his predicament.

Slowly the shadow materialised through the choking veil. Peinwald knew who it was, but even as it made its presence clear, the entity shimmered violently, a malevolent mirage whose body was of Schmidt, but his mind was under the influence of something less than human, less than an animal, a demon awakened from some forbidden realm of a time before Man. His tunic fluttered like ash in the wind as his sleeves were burnt, revealing arms bronzed from his flaming hands. Even his hair resembled black fire, waving in the sheer heat, lashing like tentacles. His face was lifeless, yet one could almost taste every negative emotion from it, as if they were all distilled into a single essence gleaming from eyes that lacked any regard for compassion, doubt or life itself; there was only purpose - the death of his enemy by holy conflagration.

Schmidt grabbed Peinwald, pulled off his coat and threw him aside, draped it over his shoulders and fastened the chain on its collar. Peinwald seeing him as the embodiment of wanton destruction filled him with terror, yet it was only for a moment; though his demise may have been assured, he felt justified in his actions, that more war would make the republic speed up its efforts for progress, and laughed at his fate.

"Go ahead and kill me! I'll gladly be a martyr for Hammerfall! I'll be remembered, celebrated as a hero, unlike you, scum!"

Schmidt raised his torched hand to Heaven, heart singing for vengeance as he viewed his sacrificial offering one last time, but Peinwald's laughter was cut short by a shriek - a blade flew into the ground, less than an inch from between his legs. In the heat, its surface was of brilliant clarity, and as it melted, Schmidt saw in the reflection a familiar figure, one who shone with the purity of the ice left in her wake. Elsa stood unswayed by the devastation. She did not speak, but the message in her diamond eyes was unmistakeable. A notion flashed into him: Stop this madness! There is no need to suffer-

 _Do not listen to that one._

Just as the demon noticed the distraction and regained control of Schmidt's body, he threw the flame down onto Peinwald, but he was not there; the scoundrel was already limping away into the cold shadows of Elsa's trail. She denied him the revenge he longed for, and now she must pay. Schmidt had to cast every doubt of his actions aside and prepare to destroy anything that obstructed his goal. "Madame," he warned, "I do not want to hurt you, but If you truly love me, your land, your family and your life, walk away."

Elsa did not move. She knew exactly what became of Schmidt: She remembered during the Big Freeze, her resolve to be left alone when Anna intruded into her self-imposed exile, and in her anger, struck her heart, dooming her to a slow, cold death. She also remembered, when her sanctuary was later stormed, the malicious intent when she almost killed a soldier who tried to take her life. In Schmidt, she saw herself had she allowed to be enslaved to such feelings; ending Peinwald would not be enough to satisfy the demon within him. He would be compelled by his heart to exact more "justice", and would not stop until all the world was cleansed in fire, blood and anguish. This was her only chance to prevent it.

Two powers, two unstoppable forces, were about to collide.

Schmidt lauched a fireball as it screamed toward Elsa. She parried it aside as it hit the ground and exploded. She struck back with a wing of blades, flying into hot air with a sigh as they were smashed into steam by Schmidt's burning hands. With neither gaining advantage from their attacks, the powers they wielded steadily shaped their personalites; Schmidt's movements more savage and beastly, Elsa's more refined and graceful. The elements arced around them as the battle intensified, and nothing was spared from the chaos; leaves, trees, animals were burned, frozen and flung around in the ensuing tornado.

It was becoming less bearable to Elsa. Never before had she been under so much stress; he was more powerful, and with the nature of fire, would eventually overcome her own magic, and what she needed was time to recompose herself. She focused her energy into a salvo of hailstones, doubting if it was enough to at least stop Schmidt momentarily as it left her exhausted, but he could not deflect them all as he fought to keep his balance from their impact. During the barrage, Elsa hid herself behind an oak, one that somehow still stood despite the maelstrom. Gasping in relief, she was surprised to feel the wind and heat dying down. It was also strange that there was something unusual about her breath, as if she was hearing it from nearby. Why that was, she could not answer, unless...

To know Schmidt was on the other side of the tree, Elsa felt trapped; running now would give her position away, but staying put was equally risky. However, he sounded just as tired, underestimating the strain of his fury. He must have known where she was too, for it seemed to produce an unspoken truce between the two, that they sensed each other, unable to completely suppress the burdens fate placed upon their shoulders as a soft rain fell, so cool and refreshing. As it trickled down their skin, there was, perhaps, a sliver of another resolution, a glimpse of the fantasy they desired so much, the drops slowed to a float and their powers slowly rised again. Maybe, just maybe if they could hold on to this long enough...

This glimmer was overshadowed by a friction in the air as the clouds above glowed ominously, and the hairs on the back of their necks stood on end. Both dived for their lives as lightning struck the oak. The sheer bright and noise left Elsa in an overload of sensory delusion. As the world eventually returned to her, there was the tree, ash-white and split asunder. Through the crack, Schmidt had once again been possessed by his emotions. Her time to rest was over.

The residues of this tempest reached the town. Anna prayed as she watched the battle in the distance. A dazzling display of lights, colour and sound that danced across the sky, it made her angry that such a spectacle was coming from a disaster, not a celebration, yet her impetus to help was hampered by the ice that still stuck her feet to the ground. Her calls for help were in vain as everyone else was busy getting the fires under control. Such was the frustration that she had to burst it out to whoever finally came to her, and it had to be Kristoff, oblivious to him covered in sweat and fatigue. "Don't just leave me here!" she screamed, "Elsa's in real danger! We have to-"

"Shut up!" he yelled back, "I've been pulling people out of burning buildings. I can't afford to be distracted by the thought of your life on the line, as would Elsa! Just for once understand our concern for you!"

"Really? She's so concerned that she gets herself drunk and mocks the family legacy?"

"I can explain that." said the Commander.

It was hard to believe his wrinkles could get any deeper, but under the pressure of making decisions from his men's constant reports, they may have well dug into his skull. "Even I would've been fooled had she not told me her plan: She allowed Schmidt to escape, so when he tells his story upon his return to Hammerfall, he would inspire the citizens to take a stand against the insubordinates. As a diversion, Her Majesty would draw the world's attention to her by feigning drunkedness while our army were on standby in case Hammerfall did attack. Knowing your nature, you denied her request to stay away and made a bigger scene, keeping any suspicion in check."

"So why didn't she tell me?" Anna asked.

"Because you're too bloody honest Madame! A child could see through your lies! But enough of that, what on Earth was that explosion? and why did Elsa ride straight into it alone?"

"It's Schmidt! He's got fire magic!"

The two men stood in disbelief, their eyes darting erratically for another explaination, yet the signs were there, and slowly they accepted Anna's claim. In fact, all more the reason to keep her in place; Schmidt knew how strong the love between the sisters was, and if Anna were to rush in, he would sieze her to undermine Elsa. A trooper ran to the Commander, barely containing his panic.

"Sir! We have trouble!"

"More fires?"

"No Sir. We have them under control now it's started raining. It's the people, they're getting restless, wanting to know what's going on; they think Hammerfall has attacked, and they want to see Her Majesty now. At this rate, we can't hold them for long before a riot breaks out!"

"You can't hold them back?"

"Not without force, Sir."

The Commander knew too well the consequences if civilians were let loose in a situation like this, yet suppressing them with violence them would sour Arendelle's image as a fair state; there were easier decisions where his soldiers' lives hung in the balance during battle. He appeared to be cracking open, caught in these two outcomes.

"Then let me help!" said Anna, "If I tell them what went on between Elsa and Schmidt, and why she wanted him, they'll be even more supportive; she needs them as much as they need her."

... In case she had to kill him. Those words did not leave her mouth.

The Commander sighed in admittance - and relief. "I'll get my men to break you out. Just don't get too lively; it tends to rub off onto common folk."

The rain grew heavier as thunder rolled with sheet lightning overhead. Kristoff placed his hands on Anna's shoulders. "I'm sorry for shouting at you," he said, "None of us thought it could get worse than the Big Freeze, and I was thinking, was it really the right thing to get Elsa and Schmidt-"

Anna pulled him in for a kiss. It left him astonished, and Anna's smile was in sheer defiance to the rainstorm; hers was the face of hope, and that was what Arendelle needed now.

* * *

The forest was lashed in rain as the battle of the mancers raged on. With Schmidt's ceaseless attacks, Elsa had to conserve her strength; her strikes were becoming less effective in the heat, yet in her determination to do so, her steps, light as they were, grew more sluggish and difficult. Too late did she realise the ground had turned into a bog, and found herself waist deep. To avoid sinking into an untimely demise, she stopped her magic, and felt the mud harden with a sense of doom as Schmidt slowly approached her, steaming in anger and fangs bared; what could she do with mere...

His uncaged heart marveled at the image of Elsa in such peril, and sparked a thought: He could spare her, no, save her, and would be at his mercy. with a little force, perhaps, she would comply to his every desire with her-

 _Do not let her tempt you!_ cried the demon, _they all want to use you for their own end! How else will the world learn not to mess with you without an example?_

He wanted to clutch his head, but the flames on his hands refused to be extinguished. His soul was being battered, from the rain outside and the warring emotions within. There was only one constant, and she raised her arms in surrender. _What are you waiting for!?_ the demon cried again, _kill her now!_

Suddenly the rain stopped. No, it was still there surrounding them, but not from above. How cute, he thought, that Elsa had further adapted her magic to water and produced a sizeable blob, though it would not be enough to save her. She thrust her hands forward, and the blob splashed on top of him; was this really the best she could muster? However, as he savoured her futile comeback, a rumbling sound behind her grew louder, and with it, an oncoming rush of-

The impact blasted through both as a tsunami swept them away. While Elsa was just about able to ride with the current, Schmidt thrashed about helplessly to keep his head above water. Where the wave was heading, she did not know, only it carried them further from the town and ensuring the people's safety. Amongst the chaos of everything around them, Schmidt was losing his strength as he slowly disappeared from Elsa's view. She had to get him, but was struggling against violent forces threatening to pull her under. Inch by inch she closed in to his placid body, reaching out in desperation, every now and then her fingers brushed him, only to drift away again. "Hang in there Gerhard!" she screamed, knowing she could not waste each second, for it was one less to Schmidt's last. Out of the corner of her eye, there was another entity, becoming rapidly gigantic and yet remained still, as if it braced itself for-

Elsa was pinned as the wave crashed into the wall, its full rush almost crushing her before finally dying down, and she slid onto the ground, gasping for air. All she could see were rocks, boulders, a black sky and a valley below that stretched into the abyss. She had been here before; this was North Mountain, the place of her retreat, what was once a frozen palace, in the Big Freeze.

Pain permeated every nerve from the effort of getting to her feet, though it was not her primary concern; where was Schmidt? There was simply no sign of him anywhere, save the chilling inkling when the rain fell silent, howling winds and snowflakes in its place, and the heat that was now gone. Elsa clutched her scarred heart, trying with all her might to keep the tears from flowing and denying what became of him, only it was in vain as the realisation took hold. She had defended Arendelle, but the cost was almost too much; only duty, honour and Anna prevented her from retreating again.

It would take many years in coming to terms with this loss, yet she had to make some personal tribute. Observing the rocks, she remembered hearing of cultures from distant lands piling them in memory of the deceased. Primitive as that was, it was at least the first step to accepting the truth of life, though with her frame, she could only use pebbles. How pathetic, she thought, that her best efforts would be easily buried under snow in mere days, wishing she had the strength to lift the boulder she leaned on, and imagined how great it would be as she placed her hand on it, the print she left behind dripping from the glowing word.

A word?

Not just that, but it was in a script Elsa had not seen in many years; during her childhood, the king and queen consulted a tome written with such ancient text to know more about her powers. She herself could not understand much of what was within, but she remembered what each character sounded. This word, _Gerra_ , as far she knew, could mean anything. Pondering over this discovery, a few stones fell past her into the valley. Kristoff often said to be wary of what seemed insignificant happenings, in this case a possible sign of impending rockfall. She stepped away just as there were heavier sounds of them in motion, yet there was nothing coming from above. Actually, they were from where she just was, as if something had been stirred from within.

Elsa could not believe her eyes as the boulders appeared to move by their own will, grouping themselves together as more words appeared on them: _Agni, En, Cacus, Belenus, Surtr..._ That name she did know: It was the "Black One" of elder myth, a giant who ruled over the a domain of eternal flame. The others must be the names of other fire gods as the rocks starting piling up, smoking and glowing hot in parts like embers as it formed itself, legs, torso, arms, into a single towering conscience; a brutalist titan. The infernal heat it radiated, anger and bloodlust made tangible, melted the snow in seconds, turning the mountain into a roaring fountain of deluge. It emitted a cry, so loud and savage it shook the very air, reverberating back and forth across the mountains, filling Elsa with deafening horror; this was the true form of Schmidt's demon heart.

It gave chase, the ground rumbling with each step, smashing anything in its way as Elsa ran in desperation, not knowing where she was heading, only it was becoming more dangerous as the side was getting thinner the further she went, and with the relentless overflow, more slippery. With less than a foot of solid ground, Elsa carefully shimmied onward, resisiting the urge to look down and the constant pouring from above, the fear so great she did not know she was actually off the edge; her fall was prevented by ice platforms under her feet, step by step moving higher, dissolving the moment they left her touch. The beast however was undeterred by the lack of a shelf, punching and ripping out its own path towards her as she felt every blow. Just keep going, she thought, only because there was no other direction, oblivious to the crevice just ahead...

Such was the shock it was some seconds before realising she only fell a few feet inwards. Before her was a clearing, large, empty and cold. This was her innermost sanctum, for there was a huge opening at the back where the sun would rise in full view, and beyond it, the sea. Remnants of her creation had survived the years since she left it, and in what was once part of a wall, Elsa averted her gaze from the reflection of who she was then - foolish, afraid and weak; the look her enemies would love to capture. The idea some people would get pleasure from seeing others in this state disgusted her. No, they were not even human, more like parasites that leech goodness off their victims to feed their perverted desires. She had to apologise to herself, hand on heart, just like-

Elsa fell on her backside at the answer that was in plain sight. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to stop him...

The crevice was blown open as the titan barged its way in. As the clearing steamed in its presence, Elsa stood at the opening looking ahead. The stone giant glowed brighter at the thrill of completing its hunt as it lumbered toward her, knowing she was out of time when she faced it. Suddenly it stopped, unable to comprehend her visage; there was no fear or anger, or any emotion, nothing to react against. She opened her hands, water pouring from them, and in came the rain, falling hard and soaking the area, flowing through her like tears, but...The fury and malice within itself was being purged with... emptiness? It wanted her dead moments ago, yet it could not be accomplished, as if it was held back by some aura, a gateless barrier that enveloped her. Caught in confusion, all it could do was watch as Elsa smiled sadly, and stepped over the edge.

The creature was left in stupor; instead of elation, the void in its heart was slowly coloured in shades of loss, tasting sorrow in the rain, hearing regret in the wind, and feeling purpose drained in water under its feet and off the cliff. _This is not to be!_ said the demon, _you must destroy these feelings!_ But as much as the brute tried, its roar of defiance was nothing more than a whimper as it stared at itself on the floor, a reflection distorted in its despair. Strange, that accepting its actions as wrong made the image much more still and clear. Realising it was because the rain stopped, what was stranger was the image rippled again, moreso due to it in the opposite direction...

A strange energy was felt, almost heard in a rising wind, so wild it whipped the sea into a frenzy, waves crashing into each other, forming flumes that swirled and swayed violently to meet clouds pulsating in thunder, converging into a single tornado coming straight towards it. Trapped in the heat and cold of fear, the titan's sole instinct was to shield itself, knowing this was not nothing to halt its inevitable oblivion, and waited.

And it waited. It should have hit it by now, yet it was too terrified to look, thinking that will trigger it. The beam of light peeking through its arms was too tempting for its curiosity however, and upon lowering them, it saw a truly divine vision.

Moonlight cleaved the clouds apart, a bright ray that shone thousands upon thousands of droplets in brilliance, some still, some danced, sparks among stars as they gave way to a giant spring, its top a crytal clear lotus flower that opened up, and glittering on the watery throne within was one whose poise and grace with such glorious power made the giant burn with the fires of love and inspiration; this woman, this angel, this goddess, deserved a greater name than the one she was given.

Elsa discovered the key to victory when she saw her own reflection: The demon had manifested from Schmidt's negative feelings, but since it was his heart, it cannot exist without him, so he was being controlled with the image of her as unworthy of his love, showing the very emotions he fought so hard to suppress. But as he held the heart of a demon, it now held the heart of Schmidt, so to see her as he did when he unveiled the painting would reveal its weakness; in its rapture, the beast's chest slowly opened up, and sure enough, Schmidt was inside, imprisoned in unconscienceness, and in that moment, she struck an ice bolt into him.

The demon reeled from the blow as Schmidt was snapped shut, and flew into a rage, pulverising the mountain, hurling boulders, flames firing in all directions. Elsa used its heat to manipulate the waters she now summoned; a heron that glided around the brute's relentless offence. Even in its fury, it realised Elsa was using the mountain to her advantage, and in its psychosis believed destroying it would finally spell an end to her. It gathered all its might into a white hot fist and drove it into the ground.

Instead the whole arm was crushed into dust. Such was the sheer fervour it was unaware of the effect Elsa's strike inflicted until it was too late, feeling the power wane as it struggled to not slip on the frozen floor, rain turning into a blizzard, and the cracks caused by the demon's pumelling bulging in ice. It did not fully understand why, but for a second, there was a grave sense about what it had just done...

The ice exploded, shattering the mountain as fragments broke off and collapsed into the sea. Elsa was barely able to keep herself from being dragged into the resulting avalanche by summoning a shield and wedging it into the cliff, rocks and snow bouncing off while she saw the destruction all around her, and among the rush of noise and debris, the titan was caught in it, breaking apart and releasing Schmidt, oblivious to his fate as he disappeared into the darkness below.


	13. A dream in Cocytus

**Chapter 13**

Oblivion; the unfortunate, inescapable outcome of all life. An infinite emptiness where thought, feeling and memory dissipate into nothing, for there must only be nothing for it to be. It is said that the closest to experiencing it is when one is stripped of all things tangible, save the knowledge that he exists at all; a fate worse than death. But one entity had sought to defy its rule, driven purely by the need to succeed and survive.

It felt like forever in a blink to Gerhard Schmidt as his soul filled the void and slowly he regained his senses; a heartbeat, warm breath, cold skin and a strange pressure, on the verge of a headache. His reanimation was completed with every fibre of his body in agony, especially in the eyes now he could open them; he was buried in snow. With great difficulty he wiped it away, and saw his face on the black surface underneath.

It looked backed still and drained, as if having witnessed so much abuse that nothing shocked it anymore. Schmidt's reaction was the oppposite, pangs that seared his head as he writhed in torment from images that flashed before him, brief, unfocused, but with strong instincts of power, freedom, bondage, weakness, destruction. The pain increased as the pictures grew brighter and sharper, all featuring the object of his desire - to kill.

 _She made the pain. She struck you down. She must die._

The demon heart burned with a vengeance, interfering with Schmidt's conscience as he struggled to get back on his feet, and what surrounded him drew both fear and hatred. It was as if oblivion still threatened to crush him in the form of a black, starless sky, held up only by a harsh moon. A biting wind whistled through dark glass structures, resembling half-sunken devil wings that dwarfed him, rough-hewn chunks imbedded inside, and like a hall of mirrors, showed distorted visions of his soul. There was no pattern to them, each pointing in their own direction, some even have appeared to have merged violently with others, a result of a collision, perhaps...

His fury worsened at how he did not figure it out immediately: These were not wings, but waves of a raging sea in suspended animation, and rising above them all in the distance was North Mountain, its might wounded by a huge gash that was once its peak. His hands melted a way through, but the air began to feel a little cooler; he felt his power drip away with each breath, hunched in the wolfhund coat that weighed him down. With him being so tired he was in danger of collapsing, but in his determination the mountain grew bigger with each blink. How much time passed when he did was of no concern - what kept him going was something which was always just out of view. Among the ice was a single blue reflection that disappeared whenever he looked straight at it. She was following him, evident in her cold voice reverberating in every direction.

"When Dante reached the Devil in the deepest level of Hell, the tears of Man's sins have gathered there since his beginning, and with it being furthest from the warm love of Heaven, turned into a frozen lake, where the worst of all people are imprisoned; such were their crimes that they will never be released again."

Schmidt continued onwards against his shivering body, resisiting the urge to rest as the waves lessened in size and number. Eventually the mountain was in full view, a glacier of white blood spilled all the way to the snowy shore, blinding in its purity. It looked more like a way out, a stairway to Heaven perhaps, but he would not survive such a journey in his state. A tap on his left shoulder made him turn around, only to see nothing, but a cool breeze on his right infuriated him as Elsa was in front; he was tricked by child's play.

"Is this where you want to end up Gerhard? Knowing how many people you'll betray if you carry on like this; Ludwig? Mr. Holstein? Hammerfall? And for what, to satisfy your feelings?"

The heat around his feet was shrinking, ice encroaching ever closer to him. His face contorted as the demon clung to his mind in desperation. Time was running out, but if there was just one final act he could do... He kept his hand hidden, summoning what remained of his power within it, distracting Elsa with words, unknowing that his concentration exposed the demon through his voice.

"Why so _stubborn_ Madame? We are _doomed_ , but look at the _destruction_ by our hands! If you embrace your full potential, we could _rule the world_ together! Who would _dare oppose us_? But no, you chose to remain high and mighty knowing _damn well_ we failed to conceal our _miserable little pile of secrets_ , and to that I say, _TO HELL WITH YOU!_ "

He may not live to see the fruits of his labour, but the thought of all he chaos he would wreak doing so was worth it, and with his final gambit to spite the world, threw all his infernal power at Elsa.

The spark bounced harmlessly off her.

She never even flinched; she knew he could not do it. In the futility of his fate, Schmidt stood straight and started to giggle, growing louder and more erratic until his howling echoed across the mountainside. His shivering stopped and he smiled - lacking anything meaningful in its delirium.

"You never cease to amaze me Madame. Each time I see you, I am filled with more wonder than I thought I could. You truly are fit to lead a nation; Hell, you would have risen to the top even if fate handed you a harlot's life. I used to think I was a match for you, but what seperates us is that you have proven to be incorruptible, unlike I, and so I hereby declare that you, Elsa, Queen of Arendelle, are unequalled under Heaven. Tell me, did the cold ever bother you?"

"No."

Only after she answered did she notice Schmidt was not quite looking at her. In fact, she had never seen him at such peace in his stillness, or how wrong it looked, especially when his shadow had turned pale.

"Me neither... until now."

Elsa was petrified as the fire in Schmidt's eyes faded before he fell, his breath a single unbroken arc that scattered in the wind, and hit the ground with a soft thud.

She grabbed him, called him, shook him, anything to wake him up, yet there was no response. It was becoming less of rousing him and more beating back what she did not want to accept, but one can only refuse reality for so long, and slowly she was constricted by the impending truth of the situation, until it was laid bare for her to see that she was left holding a broken toy soldier. Her despair manifested as clouds that obscured the sky, and Heaven wept, frozen tears descending and settling on the pair in the silent darkness, the beginning of the longest winter...

Schmidt's gasp siezed Elsa into pure shock, a tangled mass of confusion and paused snow at how this husk looked back the same way, twitching, panting and sobbing in her arms. "I am a fool! I do not deserve your love Madame! I thought I could keep my heart in check, only to become the very thing I feared the most, and brought shame to everyone dear to me! How can I hope to gain redemption after what I have done!? Please tell me it was all a nightmare! A horrible, horrible-"

Elsa slapped his face, but it left both stunned. It came from nowhere, a reaction driven solely by emotion, yet in this moment of blindness, they saw a revelation, the true nature of their existence. Their hopes, dreams, fears, flaws, their dedication to bettering people and proving themselves fit for Heaven; they really were no different to each other. "We're both fools," she cried, "I should've known better than to appease my own heart, because it led to you losing yourself despite your best efforts, but that's exactly what happened to me. You've been through the worst and came out on the other side; for that, I know you'll never do it again!"

"How can you be so certain when I- when I wanted to-"

That he could not even say someting so awful was enough proof as she placed his cold hand on her chest.

"I forgive you."

Schmidt could not take in what he heard, yet joy flowed from his eyes as his attempts to thank her were stammered at best. The two hugged in pure, unadulterated love. Schmidt however was still weakened from the battle as he struggled to keep his hold on Elsa. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" she asked.

"I could use a drink."

He waited obediently as she cupped her hand over his mouth, watching his relief when he imbibed the virgin snow she was pouring, savouring this need to soothe him, shelter him, protect him, for that the boy she held in her bosom was not her lover, but-

"Heaven's grace!" she yelled, "I just remembered! Kristoff said you had a personal question for Ludwig. I know what it is: Who's your mother?"

"You mean, who was?"

"Who _is_."

Schmidt suddenly sat up, almost knocking Elsa back as his lupine eyes lit up with renewed fervour.

"Have you met her!?"

"Save your strength!" she answered, laying him down again; she wondered how he could still be so active despite his injuries. "I'll tell you everything I know."

He listened intensely when she regaled Sister Juli's plight, the deterioration of Hammerfall through Mr. Holstein's letter, his sacrifice, the Regem Aquilonis and the battle with the titan. "Thinking back," she said, "I was told you were either born with magic or have it cursed upon you. Something tells me it was the latter in your case, with what your mother went through, and with the ancients words..."

She seized up in fear at a new notion, one she had not considered before. "Gerhard, I know this sounds terrible, but with Hammerfall being all about progress and discovery, what if you were... an experiment?"

The theory made him peturbed and angry. "The engineers would never subject anybody to such cruelty! Besides, they dismissed magic as superstition until the Big Freeze."

Yet the idea stuck. If Juli rescued him from the asylum out of motherly love, why did she not raise him herself? He could not shake off this new suspicion that she knew he was meant for a grander scheme, one that seemed determined to conquer Arendelle even if it destroyed Hammerfall in the process. "Gerhard," Elsa whispered, not wanting him to be so upset, "We can decide what to do tomorrow. Let's sleep."

They waited in silence, yet the sleep did not come. Maybe the bleakness of their surroundings prevented it, or that their minds would not rest with everything that happened. It irritated her that this moment of respite felt like anything but, especially as Schmidt was in deep thought despite what she said. After a while he chuckled, at what she did not know, but he was eager tell her.

"You know Elsa, we should consider ourselves grateful for what we have and what has occured between us; even our enemies would envy at what we went through. Also, the tale of Dante did not end at Hell."

"And what about it?"

"I see myself as him, and you, the Devil."

"Don't you mean Beatrice?" she asked, annoyed that he came to such a comparison.

"Well, in that case..."

He sat up and held her arms. The fire had returned, and she felt it from his hands, swimming through her veins and into her heart. It was only a loose grip, yet she was unable to free herself, caught by his grey eyes that softened with a warm smile, the sensation she felt in the garden. Again she tried to escape, and managed to gather enough strength to push him away, but instead unfastened the chain on his coat. This embarassment only made her hotter, the snowflakes barely afloat as they twinkled under a peeking moon, and turned into shooting stars falling through her quivering hands. "When we first met," Schmidt said, "I was but a lost puppy, sad, confused, seeking love, purpose and assurance. You sought to keep him as your pet, relishing every chance as you teased him with drips of honey, hoping to win him over. You should be more careful how you treat animals, because this puppy has grown into a wolf - and now he wants the whole pot!"

She concentrated to prevent herself from giving into him, but as she fought the lapping waves of his aura, the urge only grew stronger, rain mingling with sweat from every pore. It did not help that Schmidt simply looked on with bemused admiration; he was permitting her the dignity of knowing that she resisted. Her only defence left was to break eye contact; in desperation she looked to the ground - and her gown was melting away in the heat, revealing pink, glistening skin, leaving her exposed in both body and soul; a goddess on her knees. "Can you not see how beautiful you look right now?" said Schmidt, "It is your body telling you to embrace nature. Open yourself, and allow me to make you even more beautiful!"

She was reaching fever pitch, and still she desperately clung to what remained of her prudence, under siege against hard rain, a throbbing heart and heavy breath. She was backed onto a precipice, the point of no return, and that was when Schmidt made his move, using her own strike against her. "Elsa," he whispered, _"Let_..."

"Gerhard please don't!"

" _It_..."

"Gerhard _please!_ "

"... _Go_."

Her fears ceased the moment she layed into him, her mouth in his. Such sensual, sloppy motions however were just the hors d'oeuvres of what was to come. She wanted more and she wanted it now, stripping away his coat, his tunic, his shirt, his trousers, and finally reaching his flesh. There was almost a perverse delight seeing him wince as she pressed the bruises on his hot, firm muscles, making her feel all the more tender when he pinned her down and suckled her breasts. Elsa was caught off-guard in such titillation, and screamed in agony when he shoved himself into her. It felt as if she had been stabbed, but she was not going to let pain stop her now, and gripped him so hard she dug her nails into him.

The living engine pushed on relentlessly, the full force of his passion and determination in each and every thrust, working her up into magical hysteria, her sensibilities consumed in the downpour until she was awash in a torrid storm of rapturous purgatory and primal rhythm. Here was the queen of Arendelle, raised as the pinnacle of civility for others to aspire, reduced to a drooling, whining beast; she was loving it. Deep inside, Elsa felt a familiar spark, the countdown to ecstacy she had experienced many times alone, only now like the sea, it was swelling bigger and harder than ever before, and questioned if she had bitten off more than she could chew, but she noticed Schmidt too was struggling to hold it in. She had gone so far to earn his heart and she was not going to let him down now, spirit soaring heavenward and defying the limits of her body as the pressure became unbearable, until finally...

Elsa's entire existence exploded in pleasure, her cry drowned out by the erupting ocean. Such bliss remained longer than she had ever felt, yet it was still too short as it dissipated in the rain, cleansing their souls as they returned to their trembling bodies, and collapsed together, exalted and exhausted. Even as drained as she was, Elsa saw Schmidt vulnerable in his fatigue, sneaking in one more kiss, and what he gasped afterwards were the words she longed to hear, the crowning confirmation of her victory over the Wolfhound:

 _"I surrender!"_

* * *

The moon overlooked the sky high above, accompanied by the few stars that withstood its majesty. From North Mountain down to the calm sea and beyond, the world bathed in its soft glow, gentle waves rolled like sheets of satin as they bubbled onto the beach. One could say on that night, this place was where Heaven and Earth met - were it not so bitterly cold. To the lounging lovers however, it was nothing.

Elsa wrapped herself around Schmidt while she was enveloped in his warmth. They had not spoken since their climax; there was no need to. They treasured the silence, taking in the tranquility of their surroundings, sometimes feeling their hair, ribbons of gold and jet entwined, or being playful with their magic, one's power in harmony with the other to create what they could not alone, Elsa shaping Schmidt's flame into a heart, his heat smoothing her crystal into one that outshone diamond, and both combined to animate liquid into many things; complex shapes, constellations, fantastic creatures. She knew exactly how Schmidt felt, embracing who he truly was and being free from the fear of his burden.

The plaything in their hands froze into a violent, indistinct mass, of chaos caught in a still frame. "What's the matter?" Elsa asked, wondering why he became sullen and stopped his magic.

"It is just... Well, I am unsure if father would approve of what I have done. I fear I have let him down."

"Let him down? What would his noble family have thought had he not swore to avenge them? Or your mother had he refused you? Even if he desired to go his own way, he couldn't because he was still a wanted man outside Hammerfall. He kept you because he must've known something fishy was going on when he was discharged from the military, moreso when he discovered your powers; whoever's pulling the strings wouldn't be able to go after him without inciting wrath from the citizens who still hold his respect. Remember his mantra?"

How could he not forget? But hearing those words in his head, it reaffirmed his own conviction of why he wanted to see Elsa: Not only because he loved her, but also to show that she was not the only mancer. However, it was not enough to completely dispel his doubt. "Still not convinced?" she said coyly, "Then how about this: Would Ludwig Schmidt, the Southern Valravn, scourge of the aristocracy, be so ashamed if he found out _his son just banged a queen?_ "

That made him grin. Why would the father not be proud of Gerhard achieving his dream, just as he turned his back on the old ways to achieve his? "I must confess," he said, "I was unsure not only of my actions - I decided to serve you before we made love, but also of what I must do from now, and so I ask: Do you have faith in me?"

"Yes."

"And will you do whatever is necessary in the best interests of your people?"

"Yes!"

"Then I must leave."

Elsa could not believe what he said, and held him to the sand in ice. "You can't just swear loyalty and then abandon me!" she pleaded, "I command you to stay! We can use our magic together and stop the war from happening! Everybody would be too afraid to-"

The realisation of what she said sent a chill down her spine like no other; to take such drastic action could be seen as rule through terror, a direct violation to House Arendelle's foundations of justice and compassion. "If we were to do so," Schmidt added, melting the ice and laying her down, "The enemies we seek would go underground, and we lose all hope of finding them. We need to learn more about who we are facing before we combat it. Our best chance for this is that you must do as I say. Now listen carefully..."

It all made sense to Elsa when Schmidt explained his plan, yet she struggled to accept that he had to run away again. "But you're a child of Hammerfall!" she begged, "How can they be saved when-"

Her words died as her body relaxed in his gentle heat, slowly draining her conscience as he wiped away the tear from her face. "As father turned his back on the imperial way, so I must abandon the homeland to preserve the principles it has now forsaken. I am not a child of Hammerfall; _I am Hammerfall._ "

Tried as she might to fight the approaching slumber, all she could do was sigh when he placed his coat over her body. "Elsa, if there was an easier way, by Hell I would do it! If you find yourself in danger of despair, remember this: I have given you something that I vow to return to see, and that I am doing this for Heaven, for Mankind and for you, my angel, my Athena, my flutterby!"

In such cosy bliss, Elsa's eyes grew ever heavier, and keeping them open eventually became impossible. The last thing she saw was his beautiful smile, the face of a dream coming to an end, sealed with his kiss, and with the last of her energy, she whispered

"Go get 'em Wolfhound!"


End file.
